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®I)t SJbutgbon Beltgioti# Cbucatton ®ex t% 

Babtb <&. ©otonep, General tfbttor 

DAILY VACATION CHURCH SCHOOL SERIES 
GEORGE HERBERT BETTS, Editor 


Knights of Service 

(For Children of 9-11 years) 


BY 

EMERSON O. BRADSHAW 

Secretary, Commission on Religious Education 
The Chicago Church Federation 

Prepared in Cooperation with the International Association 
of Daily Vacation Bible Schools 



THE ABINGDON PRESS 

NEW YORK CINCINNATI 








Copyright, 1923, by 
EMERSON O. BRADSHAW 
All Rights Reserved 


Printed in the United States of America 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER p AG E 


Foreword. 5 

Part I.—Bible Stories 

I. Jesus Our Heroic Master. 9 

II. Samson, a Man of Strength. 13 

III. David and His Country. 16 

IV. Ruth the Faithful. 20 

V. Joseph and His Brothers.23 

VI. Joseph Returns Good for Evil_ 27 

VII. Rebekah at the Well. 33 

VIII. Timothy, the Boy Who Followed 

Jesus. 38 

IX. In His Father’s House. 42 

X. The Four Fishermen of Galilee. . 46 

XI. How a Sick Girl Was Cured. 51 

XII. Jesus Among His Friends. 54 

XIII. The Boy Who Became a Friend of 

Jesus. 58 

XIV. The Forgiving Father. 63 

XV. Sharing the Last Meal. 67 

XVI. The Prince Who Sought Happiness 70 
XVII. Three Mighty Men of Valor. .... 74 

XVIII . The Good Samaritan. 76 

XIX. Four Knights of Heroic Service. . 80 

XX. Nehemiah and His Country. 82 

XXI. Elisha and a Great General. 86 

XXII. The Champion Christian Soldier .. 89 




















4 CONTENTS 

Part II.— Character Stories 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. The Knights of the Silver Shield. 97 

II. Theodore Roosevelt’s Fight for 

Strength. 106 

III. The Golden Scepter. 109 

IV. The Boy Who Was Not Afraid. ... 117 

V. The Great Stone Face. 121 

VI. The Boy Who Gave a Cup of Cold 

Water. 128 

VII. Not What We Give, But What We 

Share. 132 

VIII. How Mirza Khan Told the Truth. 136 

IX. The Legend of Saint Christopher. 141 

X. The Whittler of Cremona. 145 

XI. The Children’s Crusade. 153 

XII. Where Love Is, There God Is. 157 

XIII. Raggedy Andrew. 165 

XIV. The Merchants and the Golden 

Bowl. 168 

XV. The Miraculous Pitcher.172 

XVI. They Who Find America. 177 

XVII. Friday’s Footprints. 189 

XVIII. Private Tom Makes a Discovery. . 195 
XIX. Up North. 202 
















FOREWORD 

The teacher who has learned the art of telling 
effectively a good story is sure of an appreciative 
hearing from children. Story-borne truth is peculiarly 
effective with childhood, for it fires the imagination and 
kindles interest while at the same time making the les¬ 
son so concrete that its meaning cannot be escaped. 
Furthermore, the teacher who has mastered the art of 
story-telling has learned the mind and heart of the 
child, for childhood thinks and feels in terms of the 
picturesque and the real as set forth in good stories. 

Many types of teaching are suited to the junior 
classroom, but none take precedence over the story 
method. The story may well be made the basis of 
other forms of instruction, as when it supplies the 
material for dramatization, or opens up a line of dis¬ 
cussion, or suggests problems and projects to be 
investigated and followed out. 

Two classes of stories are presented in this volume: 
A group of Bible stories centered about the great 
interests and fundamental virtues which are suitable 
for junior children; and another group intended to 
reinforce the lessons presented through these Bible 
stories, but from a somewhat different point of view. 
The two series, therefore, supplement each other, 
though either can, of course, be used separately. 

This book was prepared especially to accompany 
Knights of Service: Program Guide (of this same 
Series), by Marion O. Hawthorne, but it is hoped 
that it will serve equally well in any other phase of 
the church school or in the home where stories are 
told to children. The volume is definitely planned 
as a textbook for the pupils themselves in vacation 


church-school classes. 


George H. Betts. 


5 












PART I. BIBLE STORIES 




















I 


JESUS OUR HEROIC MASTER 

Jerusalem, the Holy City, was buzzing with 
excitement. In a very few days the Feast of the 
Passover would be celebrated. Already the crowds 
from the outlying districts were pouring into the 
city. Men, women, and children filled the streets, 
and everywhere there was hustle and confusion. 

But never before had there been quite as much 
excitement. On every hand, in the market place, 
on the streets, in the porches of the Temple, every¬ 
one was talking about the same thing. Even the 
little children, busy at their play, called merrily to 
one another the wonderful news. 

“The King is coming! The Messiah for whom we 
have waited so many years is drawing nigh! It is 
Jesus of Nazareth who shall establish the Kingdom 
of the Jews upon the earth!” Like wildfire the news 
spread, and it seemed that every arrival in the city 
had some new story to tell of the power and wonder¬ 
ful deeds of Jesus. 

“He hath cured Peter’s wife’s mother, who lay ill 
of a fever,” one told a group of interested listeners. 
“Jairus’ daughter lay dead and he hath brought her 
back to life again!” another tale was told. “With 
stories that he calls parables he hath taught us many 
things about the kingdom of God,” said yet another. 
There came also one from Bethany, telling what had 
happened to Lazarus: “Lo! he was dead and they 
had placed him in the tomb,” thrillingly he told the 
9 


IO 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


story, “and when the Master came and found them 
weeping he entered the tomb, and when he came 
out, lo! Lazarus, full of health and life, was with 
him! ,, 

On the Sabbath afternoon (which is our Saturday) 
the news reached Jerusalem that on the morrow the 
King would enter the city. “I can hardly wait to 
see the King!” children said to one another, and 
they wished the hours would pass more quickly. 

“Surely he will come riding upon a gallant war 
horse, and leading an army with banners and 
trumpets! He will strike down at a word those who 
refuse to honor him!” many of the people thought, 
and they could hardly wait for his appearance. 

The dawn came with a burst of gold and rose 
color the first day of the week, and it looked as 
though the very skies were thrilling with anticipa¬ 
tion. Everyone in the city was stirring early, for 
they knew not at what hour the King would come. 
It seemed to them that they had been waiting for 
hours, when there came running through a gate 
nearest the little village of Bethphage a youth, 
panting with his run, and bursting with excitement. 

“Ho! Everyone!” he shouted, “the King cometh! 
He has left Bethphage riding upon a colt. Soon he 
will be here!” And away he darted to spread his 
good news. Finally, standing in the market place, 
a group of men pressed tightly around him, he 
told them how two disciples of Jesus had come 
into Bethphage, and had unloosed a colt that stood 
tied outside a house there. “And when the owner 
questioned the two men they said, ‘The Lord hath 
need of him!’ ” Wonder clouded the faces of his 
listeners. Some of them looked disappointed. Was 


JESUS OUR HEROIC MASTER 


ii 


the King coming, riding upon a colt? Where was 
the fiery war horse they had felt sure he would ride? 
Where were the victorious armies they had expected? 
Perhaps he wasn’t the King at all! 

Then a man, standing in the crowd, turned and 
spoke reverently: “Even so hath the prophet 
spoken, ‘Behold thy king cometh to thee; he is 
just, and having salvation; lowly, and riding upon 
a colt!’ ” And a shout of exaltation echoed through 
the market place. He was to be their King after all! 

Toward the gate through which the King must 
come the crowds hastened. As they went they cut 
palm branches and gathered flowers. Some of 
the children and youths who could run swiftly 
hastened outside the city walls, where crocuses, 
tulips, and geraniums were blooming in great 
quantities. Bringing whole handfuls of the fragrant 
blossoms, they hurried back to the city. Soon 
the edges of the roads were lined with people. 
Old men and women were there, with faces shining 
with joy; mothers had brought tiny babies, and 
held them tenderly in their arms, crooning, “To-day 
shalt thou see thy King, my little one!” 

Suddenly, a shout, “Hosanna!” rent the air. It 
was quickly taken up by the multitude of throats, 
until it seemed that the whole world was filled with 
the shout, “Hosanna!” 

And then they saw him coming! His body swayed 
easily with the motion of the beast, his white robes 
moved gently in the breeze, and his splendid head 
was thrown back as he gazed out upon the crowd. 
“Hosanna! Hosanna!” they cried, and the little 
children along the way strewed flowers in his path. 
Men threw down their garments and the graceful 


12 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


palm branches, until the stones were covered with a 
thick covering into which the hoofs of the colt sank 
without a jar. 

“Hosanna to the Son of David! Hail! King of 
the Jews!” the cry resounded all along the way. 
“Hail! Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews!” And 
so the Christ rode into the Holy City of Jerusalem 
on that Palm Sunday, nearly two thousand years 
ago. 


II 


SAMSON, A MAN OF STRENGTH 

A young boy was playing outside one of the tents 
of the Israelites. Sitting near by, where she could 
be sure that he came to no harm, was his mother. 

“How strong he is!” she said to herself. “Such a 
beautiful child will some day perform wondrous 
deeds. Perhaps he may even deliver our people 
from our enemies the Philistines!” 

That night she talked with her husband, Manoah, 
about their child. “Surely,” she told him, “our son 
hath been sent to do a great work.” And she and 
Manoah dreamed of the day when perhaps Samson, 
their only son, might regain the freedom of the 
Israelites. 

From babyhood Samson had been an unusually 
strong child. People talked about him with wonder 
as they watched how he grew sturdier with every 
day. “Oh, that my little Caleb were like Samson!” 
one mother wished, as she looked at her own frail 
little son. “I must ask Manoah’s wife to help me, 
so that my son, too, may grow strong.” Even 
Samson’s father and mother marveled at the strength 
of the child, and in every way they did all in their 
power to increase the child’s health and make him 
even stronger. 

“Ask Samson to get it for you.” One of the boys 
had thrown the scarf which he wore about his head 
high into a tall tree, and it had lodged among the 

13 


14 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


branches. “Our Samson can swim the stream/’ 
boasted the Israelite boys to the Philistine youths, 
as they stood watching the swift current of a tur¬ 
bulent brook, swollen with mountain snows. “Sam¬ 
son can run as fast as an eagle’s flight!” bragged 
his companions. Nor was their joy empty, for 
so carefully had Samson been trained and so 
strong was his body that he had never failed in 
any feat which he had attempted, even in the face 
of danger. 

Samson’s life had been set apart for God by his 
parents. “Our son,” said Manoah to his wife, after 
Samson was become a man, “must be nearly ready 
to do the work for which God has called him, and 
for which we have so carefully prepared him.” 

“Perhaps,” his wife answered, “there is some test 
which he must meet before God will find him ready. 
Let us pray that whatever happens his strength and 
his courage will never leave him.” 

Finally the day of testing came, when Samson 
had gone with his father and mother on a journey 
to Timnah. In his great strength, and because of his 
eagerness to reach the city, Samson had far out¬ 
distanced his mother and father. He had at last 
reached the vineyards of Timnah and was happy to 
think that his journey was almost over. 

Suddenly a deep-throated roar tore the air! Again 
it sounded, and yet again! For a moment Samson’s 
heart stopped beating. He had heard tales of the 
fierce lions that sometimes came almost into the 
very city. 

Only for a second did Samson’s courage waver, 
then he squared his shoulders and braced his legs 
securely. He had no weapon, and there was no one 


SAMSON, A MAN OF STRENGTH 


15 

near who could help him. It must be a bare-handed 
fight against the savage beast! 

There was a crackling of leaves and twigs, another 
roar, and then, bounding swiftly toward him, its 
breath coming in short gusts of anger, was the fierce 
animal. 

Samson took a deep breath. Swift and sure were 
his motions. There was a howl of pain from the 
beast, and then, with ease, he tossed the torn form 
of the lion into the bushes! 

The lad, whom his parents had so long been 
training, had met his first mighty test of strength; 
his strong ^muscles had not failed him nor had his 
courage been lacking in the time of great need. 

It was some time later that he told his parents of 
the fight and his victory. “Surely his time has come,” 
they said, with gladness to each other. “Samson, 
our beloved son, is ready to start his fight against 
the enemies of our people.” 


Ill 


DAVID AND HIS COUNTRY 

The Philistine army and the army of Israel had 
come together in a great battle. The Bible tells us 
that the Philistines were standing on the hill on one 
side, and the Israelites were standing on the hill on 
the other side, with the valley between. 

The place was not far from Bethlehem, where lived 
a man named Jesse, three of whose sons were fight¬ 
ing with Saul, commander of the army of Israel. 
Every few days Jesse sent his youngest son David 
to carry a basket of food to his soldier brothers. 

One day while David was at the camp of the 
Israelites he saw a great soldier giant come down 
the hill from the Philistines and stop in the valley 
below where Saul’s army was encamped. His name 
was Goliath, and he was the champion soldier of 
the Philistines. He was very large and very strong. 
He wore a costly uniform of shining brass, and car¬ 
ried a great spear with an iron head. 

The breastplate which the giant fighter wore 
weighed one hundred and fifty pounds. He also had 
bronze greaves upon his leg, and a bronze back 
plate between his shoulders. The shaft of his spear 
was like a weaver’s beam, and the head of his iron 
spear weighed about twenty pounds; and his shield- 
bearer went before him. 

Every day for forty days this giant had come 
down into the valley between the armies. Every 
16 


17 


DAVID AND HIS COUNTRY 

day he had thrown out the challenge, “Give me a 
man that we may fight together.” 

Saul looked among his soldiers for a man, but in 
vain. He offered rich rewards to the one who would 
go out and conquer Goliath. But not one of the 
soldiers of Israel would offer to fight the giant. 
They were all afraid of his great size, his fierce look, 
and his mighty spear. “All of the men of Israel, 
when they saw the man, fled from him, and were 
sore afraid.” Even David’s three brothers were 
afraid like the rest. But David, when he saw Goliath 
come down into the valley and heard him roar out 
his challenge, was not afraid. He said to his brothers, 
“I will go to King Saul and ask his permission to 
fight the giant.” 

His brothers scorned him and laughed at him, and 
said, “Why have you come down? And with whom 
have you left those few sheep in the wilderness? 
We know the pride and the naughtiness of your 
heart, for you have come down to see the battle. 
Will you now think to fight this mighty man of the 
Philistines!” 

But David paid no heed to their slighting words. 
He was loyal to his country and he loved and 
worshiped Jehovah the God of Israel. He believed 
that Jehovah wanted him to serve his country, and 
that with God’s help he could conquer the giant 
enemy. So David came to King Saul and said, 
“I will go out and fight this Philistine.” 

The king was astonished, and said, “You are not 
able to go and fight against this Philistine, for you 
are only a youth and he has been a warrior from his 
youth.” 

David, nothing daunted, replied to the king, 


i8 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


“Your servant kept his father’s sheep, and whenever 
a lion or bear came and took a lamb out of the flock, 
I would go out after him and kill him and rescue 
it from his mouth. If he attacked me I would seize 
him by the throat and kill him with a blow. Your 
servant hath killed both lion and bear.” 

“Now this heathen Philistine,” he said, “shall be 
like one of them, for he has taunted the armies of 
the living God. Jehovah, who delivered me from 
the paw of the lion and the paw of the bear, will 
deliver me from the hand of this Philistine.” 

Then Saul said to David, “Go, and may Jehovah 
be with you.” 

So David, the young shepherd lad, prepared to 
meet the mighty Goliath in battle. King Saul 
offered David his own armor, but David put it aside; 
for he had his own plans. Bravely he left the pres¬ 
ence of Saul and started down the hill toward the 
haughty giant. The eyes of all the soldiers were 
turned toward David. His danger was great, but 
his heart was strong and his hand steady. Instead 
of a spear he carried with him his sling, with which 
he had so often defended his father’s sheep. 

As he crossed the little brook on his way to meet 
Goliath, he picked up five smooth round stones 
from the bed of the brook. Calmly he put them in 
his shepherd’s bag. 

Nearer and nearer he came to the waiting enemy, 
who loudly mocked at him. A deep silence fell on 
both sides. Each army watched every move that 
David made. The fate of Israel was in his hands. 
The safety of his country depended upon him. 

David was not afraid. He trusted Jehovah to 
give him strength for the battle. When the giant 


DAVID AND HIS COUNTRY 


19 


taunted him with being but a boy, he answered, “I 
come to thee in the name of Jehovah of Hosts, the 
God of the armies of Israel. This day will Jehovah 
deliver thee into my hands.” 

When David had come quite near to Goliath, the 
Philistine took his great sword and started toward 
him. Still David was not afraid. He still believed 
he would win in the name of Jehovah. 

Just at the right moment David carefully drew 
from his shepherd’s bag one of the round stones and 
put it in his sling. He raised the sling, took aim and 
shot the stone with all his might. It hit the giant 
fairly and sank deep into his forehead. Down he 
fell upon his face to the ground. David had won the 
day! 

When the Philistines saw their great leader go 
down before the slender boy of Israel they turned 
and fled. The whole army took to its heels. Saul’s 
army raised the battle cry and pursued the retreat¬ 
ing Philistines. The Israelites won a great battle 
that day. Their homes were again made safe and 
their women and children set free from the hands 
of the Philistines. 

All Israel honored David, the young shepherd, 
who had trusted Jehovah to help him save his coun¬ 
try. Israel now had peace, and David was in great 
favor with all the people. 


IV 


RUTH THE FAITHFUL 

On a lonely road between Moab and Bethlehem, 
three women, Naomi, Ruth, and Orpah, stood 
weeping. The gray hair and drooping figure of 
Naomi showed that she was growing old. Ruth and 
Orpah were young and beautiful. Naomi’s home 
was in Bethlehem; Ruth and Orpah lived in the 
land of Moab. They were sad because they were 
about to part, perhaps never to meet again. This 
is their story: 

Many years before, the crops had failed at Beth¬ 
lehem and there had been famine in the land. At 
that time Naomi, with her husband and her two 
sons, had left their Bethlehem home and moved to 
the land of Moab, where the food was plentiful. 
They prospered while they were living in Moab, and 
one of Naomi’s sons had married Ruth and the 
other had married Orpah. 

Then a great sorrow came to them. Elimelech, 
Naomi’s husband, fell sick and died. After that, 
Naomi made her home with her two sons and their 
wives, Ruth and Orpah, who did everything they 
could to make her comfortable and happy. 

But, sad to relate, after some years had passed, 
both of the sons sickened and died. So Naomi, 
Ruth, and Orpah were left alone in the land of Moab. 
Ruth and Orpah loved Naomi as if she had been 
their own mother; but Naomi, with her husband 
and sons gone, became homesick to see her old 


20 


RUTH THE FAITHFUL 


21 


friends in Bethlehem and decided to return there. 
It was a long walk of many miles from Moab to 
Bethlehem. Naomi had planned to make the trip 
all alone, for she would not think of taking Ruth 
and Orpah away from their friends and relatives. 

When Naomi started on her journey, Ruth and 
Orpah, sorrowing, went part way with her. They 
had walked some distance, and the time had now 
come for them to turn back; and it made them all 
very sad, for they loved each other dearly. So there 
they stood weeping as they were saying good-bye. 

Turning to her two daughters, Naomi said to 
them, “Go, return each of you to her mother’s 
house; and the Lord deal kindly with you, as ye 
have dealt with me.” 

Ruth and Orpah answered, “Nay, you shall not 
go alone, we will go with thee to thy people.” 

Naomi again urged them to return to their own 
kindred. Orpah was convinced; she kissed her and 
turned back. But Ruth clung to Naomi and said: 

“Entreat me not to leave thee; for whither thou 
goest I will go, and where thou lodgest I will lodge. 
Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my 
God.” 

So Ruth left her home and her kindred and her 
friends to go with Naomi, because she loved her. 
They went on together until they reached Beth¬ 
lehem, Naomi’s old home. It was midsummer when 
they arrived and they found the farmers busy with 
their sickles, harvesting the fields of wheat and 
barley. 

Naomi and Ruth were very poor and had no money 
with which to buy food. Now it was the custom in 
that country for the reapers to allow the poor to 


22 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


follow after them, gleaning the fallen grain and tak¬ 
ing it for food. Ruth therefore went out in the 
barley fields to glean, as did the other maidens. 

The field in which she found herself belonged to 
Boaz, a kinsman of Naomi’s. When Boaz saw Ruth 
busily gleaning after the reapers, he asked, “Whose 
maiden is this?” They answered him that she was 
Ruth, of Moab, who had come to Bethlehem with 
Naomi. 

Then Boaz spoke kindly to Ruth and told her 
that she was welcome to glean in his fields, and that 
.she was to have water from the pitchers the men had 
drawn from the well. When lunch time came he 
asked her to eat with them. So Ruth gleaned in the 
fields of Boaz until the end of the harvest, and 
found food for herself and Naomi. 

Boaz had not failed to notice the beautiful Ruth 
as she gleaned so faithfully day after day, and he 
had also learned of her kindness to aged Naomi. 
He came to love her, and asked her to be his wife. 
Soon they were married and lived happily for many 
years in Bethlehem. 


V 


JOSEPH AND HIS BROTHERS 

“For whom are you looking?” asked a stranger, 
who found the lad Joseph wandering in the field as 
if he were lost. 

“I am looking for my brothers,” said Joseph. 
“ There are ten of them. They are shepherds, and 
they came out here to tend my father’s sheep. Can 
you tell me where I may find them?” 

“Two days ago,” answered the man, “they were 
here tending their sheep in this very field. I heard 
one of them say, ‘Let us take our sheep to Dothan.’ 
So if you will go on to that place, no doubt you will 
find them there.” So Joseph thanked the man 
kindly and set out at once for Dothan. 

Now Joseph’s father’s name was Jacob, and his 
home was in Hebron. Jacob had sent his sons with 
the flocks of sheep to find better fields for pasture. 
It was forty or fifty miles from their home, so they 
had to camp out in the fields with their sheep during 
the summer. 

The sons had now been away from home a long 
time and Jacob was anxious to know how they 
were prospering, and whether the flocks were safe. 
So he sent Joseph out to find his brothers and to 
bring back a report about them and the sheep. 

“Here comes the dreamer,” said the brothers, 
when they saw Joseph coming in the distance. The 
reason they called him a dreamer w$s because long 
*3 


24 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


before they came to Dothan with the flocks Joseph 
told them about two dreams he had had. 

It had been like this: One morning when Joseph 
got up he said to his brothers: “I had a wonderful 
dream last night, which I want to tell you about. 
In my dream it was harvest time and we were 
binding sheaves in the field. There were twelve of 
us and we each had a sheaf of wheat. Then suddenly 
the twelve sheaves stood up. My sheaf remained 
still, and behold your eleven sheaves came before 
my sheaf and bowe4 to the ground before it, as if it 
were king of all the sheaves. ,, 

Now people believed in dreams in those days, and 
Joseph’s dream made the brethren very envious. 
They said, “Do you think that some day you will 
become a king and will rule over us, your brothers?” 

On another morning Joseph told his brothers yet 
another dream which he had dreamed. “In this 
dream,” he said, “it seemed as if the sun and the 
moon and eleven stars came where I was, and bowed 
very low, as if to show me great respect and great 
reverence.” 

His father also heard him tell about this dream. 
“What is this dream that thou hast dreamed?” said 
Jacob. “Shall I and thy mother and thy brethren 
indeed come to bow down ourselves before thee 
to the earth?” But Joseph made no answer. The 
brothers were still more envious of him after the 
second dream; but the father pondered over the 
matter, wondering what it could mean. 

So when the brothers saw Joseph coming to where 
they were at Dothan they remembered the dreams, 
which seemed to say that Joseph would some day 
rule over them like a king. 


JOSEPH AND HIS BROTHERS 25 

When Joseph had come nearer they looked at him 
more closely, and behold he had on the long beautiful 
coat with flowing sleeves and of many colors. His 
father had given him this wonderful coat, so fine 
that it was such as princes wore. To them it seemed 
as if a young prince were coming to their camp. 

The dreams and the coat were too much for the 
shepherd brothers. So they began to plot how they 
might be rid of Joseph, even before he had come to 
where they were. “Come let us kill him and throw 
him into one of the pits,” they said, “and then we 
will see what becomes of his dreams. We will tell 
our father that a fierce beast has devoured him.” 

But Reuben said, “Do not take his life, but let 
us put him in one of these deepest pits which are 
used to hold water in the rainy season. The pits 
are dry now, but they are so deep that he could 
never get out.” 

Reuben made this plan thinking that he would 
slip around to the pit when his brothers were not 
looking and help Joseph out and send him home 
to his father. 

By this time Joseph had reached their camp. 
Without even speaking to him they laid hold of 
him and stripped off his long, princely coat. Then 
they dragged him to one of the deepest pits and 
put him in. 

After that they went back to their camp and 
began to eat their dinner. They did not so much 
as think of throwing a piece of bread to Joseph, 
who must have been hungry from his long journey. 

While the brothers were eating, they looked up 
and saw coming in the distance a caravan of camels. 
The camels were carrying heavy packs filled with 


26 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


spices and other precious things. They were on 
their way to the markets of Egypt. 

Then Judah, one of the brothers, said, “It would 
be wrong for us to take the life of Joseph, for he is 
our brother. Come, let us sell him to the camel 
drivers.” 

When the camel drivers came up the brothers 
said, “We have a young man here whom we would 
like to sell to you for a slave”; and they went to 
the pit and drew Joseph up. The bargain was soon 
made, for the camel drivers agreed to give them 
twelve dollars for Joseph. 

Now, the brothers thought, “This is the last of 
Joseph, the dreamer and prince, who would rule 
over us.” 

When the caravan had gone on, these wicked 
brothers killed a goat, took the blood, smeared it 
over Joseph’s coat of many colors and carried it 
home to their father Jacob. 

They said to their father, “We found this coat in 
the field all covered with blood like this. Is it not 
Joseph’s coat?” 

The aged father was overcome with grief. He 
cried out, “It is indeed my son’s coat, which I gave 
to him. Joseph, my beloved son, has been torn to 
pieces. A wild beast has devoured him!” 

Jacob mourned for his son Joseph for many days. 
So great was his grief that the brothers thought he 
would surely die. They tried to comfort him, but 
he said, “This sorrow is so great that I shall go 
down to my grave mourning for my son.” 


VI 


JOSEPH RETURNS GOOD FOR EVIL 

Many years had passed since his wicked brothers 
had sold Joseph down into Egypt as a slave. Jacob, 
the father, had never ceased to grieve over his lost 
son. To-day he sat with bowed head, his hands 
clasped upon his staff, his heart filled with sorrow 
and perplexity. A famine had come upon the land, 
the crops had failed, and soon there would be no 
food either for those of his household or for the 
animals. Money he had in plenty, but money 
was of no use when there was no food to buy. 

Jacob’s sons gathered about him; but their faces 
also were sad and their hearts heavy, for their barns 
were empty and their families wanted for food. 
They were sorrowful to see their father troubled in 
his old age, but could do nought to help him. 

At last they ventured to say to Jacob: “We have 
been told that there is grain to spare in the land of 
Egypt. We have been told that the king of that 
land has put a governor in charge of his stores of 
grain. We will take much money with us and per¬ 
haps he will sell us enough to keep us alive.” 

So Jacob gave his sons his blessing, and they took 
their empty sacks on their animals and journeyed 
down into Egypt. Only the younger brother, Ben¬ 
jamin, stayed at home with his father. 

Now Benjamin was the apple of his father’s eye. 
Ever since Joseph had disappeared, Jacob had 
watched over Benjamin and loved him very ten- 
27 


28 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


derly. Perhaps the other brothers were sorry by 
this time for the way they had treated Joseph and 
for their father’s sorrow over him. Indeed, they 
did not even ask for Benjamin to go with them, but 
left him to comfort their father in their absence. 

When Jacob’s ten sons had come into Egypt they 
found that grain was being sold from the king’s 
storehouse under the direction of the governor, who 
was an officer of the king’s own household. Other 
buyers who had come before them had their sacks 
filled with grain and went on their way. When the 
ten brothers appeared before the head officer, he 
saw that they were strangers from another land, 
and asked of them, “Whence come you?” 

They answered, “We come from the land of 
Canaan to buy grain for food, for there is a famine 
in that land, and those of our household are ready 
to die of want.” 


But the governor of the king’s storehouses an¬ 
swered, “How do I know that you are not spies, 
come down to spy upon our land? I will not sell 
you grain unless you can prove who you are.” 

Strongly did the brothers protest: “We are no 
spies. We are all brothers, the sons of one father, 
and we are good men and true, who have come 
down into Egypt to buy grain, because there is a 
famine in the land of Canaan, where we live.” 

Still the governor was not convinced. He said, 
“You must prove to me that what you say is true.” 

Then the brothers began to tell the story of their 
family. They said, “There are twelve brothers of 
us; but one of our brothers is dead, and the youngest 
one is now at home with our father, who is growing 
old.” 6 6 


JOSEPH RETURNS GOOD FOR EVIL 29 

Then said the governor: “If you would have me 
believe that this is true, you must bring your young¬ 
est brother here, that I may see him. One of you 
must go and get him, and the other nine must re¬ 
main here under guard.” 

Upon this command the ten brothers were in 
deep despair. They knew that their father would 
not give his consent to have Benjamin come down 
into Egypt. They feared that this cruel governor 
might not allow them to go home, and that if he 
did he would send them away empty, as they came. 

For three days the governor kept all the brothers 
prisoners under guard. Then he sent for them to 
come before him. “I have decided,” he said, “to 
sell you the grain, and allow nine of you to go home 
with it. But one of you must remain here as hos¬ 
tage until the rest return with this youngest brother, 
of whom you have told me, and let it be known to 
you that you can have no more grain, nor will I 
ever allow you again to come into my presence 
unless you bring this boy back with you.” 

So Simeon agreed to stay as a hostage in the 
governor’s house, while the nine brothers returned 
to the land of Canaan with the grain that was to 
keep their father and their households from starving. 

The sacks were filled with grain, the money paid, 
and the sacks loaded on the animals. In the mean¬ 
time, however, the governor had given a secret 
order that the money should be put back into the 
top of each of the sacks of grain. 

While they were on their journey home the 
brothers opened their sacks to take out grain for 
food, and there they found the money which they 
had paid for the grain. They were filled with 


30 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


astonishment and fear, not knowing why this 
strange thing should be done. Nor when they had 
told their father about the money, could he explain 
it any more than they. 

When they had told their father of the command 
of the governor to bring Benjamin to him, Jacob 
said: “I will never let Benjamin leave me to go 
down into Egypt. Behold, did I not send my son 
Joseph on an errand away from home and he never 
returned; and now shall I likewise lose Benjamin?” 

But, after a time the grain which the brothers had 
brought from Egypt had all been eaten, and there 
was no food to be had in the land. The brothers 
came before their father and said: “Not only Ben¬ 
jamin, but all of us must die, for we have no grain. 
The governor said we should not even look upon 
his face again except we bring Benjamin with us.” 
Judah, one of the brothers, stood forth and said: 

“I will be surety for him; of my hand shalt thou 
require him: if I bring him not to thee, and set him 
before thee, then let me bear the blame forever: 
for except we had lingered, surely we had now re¬ 
turned a second time.” 

So Jacob gave his consent for Benjamin to return 
with his brothers down into Egypt. They took 
many rich presents with them, hoping to win the 
favor of the governor and to prove that they had 
not meant to carry away the money which they 
had paid for the grain on their first trip. 

Now, when the governor heard that the brothers 
were at the gate asking again to buy grain, he sent 
an order to his chief cook, saying, “Make to-day a 
great feast, for I shall have as guests these men 
from Canaan, who will dine with me.” 


JOSEPH RETURNS GOOD FOR EVIL 


3i 


The brothers came before the governor with great 
fear, remembering how the money had been found 
in their sacks; but he said to them, “Fear not!” 
and he had their brother, Simeon, who had been 
held as hostage, brought out to see them, and they 
found him sound and well. 

When they were gathered about the table for the 
feast, the governor inquired, “Is your father living 
and is he well?” They answered, “He is living and 
he is well.” Then inquired the governor, “Is this 
your youngest brother of whom you told me?” and 
when they answered that this was their brother, 
Benjamin, the governor turned to him and said, 
“May God be gracious unto you!” 

After the dinner was over the servants filled the 
sacks with grain. While this was being done the 
governor sent a secret message to his overseer, say¬ 
ing, “Put my own silver cup in the sack that be¬ 
longs to the youngest one.” The brothers, knowing 
nothing of this, started on their way home, rejoicing 
at the success of their mission. But they had not 
gone far when a messenger from the governor came 
running after them. 

“One of you has taken my masters silver cup!” 
he cried, “and I have come to find who it is.” 

The brothers were amazed and alarmed. “We 
did not take your master’s cup,” they said. “Look 
in our sacks and you will see that we speak the 
truth.” 

When the sacks were opened, sure enough there 
in Benjamin’s sack was the governor’s silver cup. 
The brothers were filled with dismay as they turned 
sadly about and returned to the governor’s house. 

When they had been brought before the governor, 


3 2 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


he gave the command, “Send everyone out from 
the room, and leave me alone with these men.” 

After the others had left the room, he astonished 
the brothers by turning to them and crying: “Do 
you not know me? I am your brother, Joseph, 
whom you sold into Egypt many years ago. I beg 
of you not to grieve over this evil thing that you 
did unto me, for God intended it all to work out 
for good. Wherefore, hasten home to my father, 
and tell him that I am living and well, and that I 
am possessed of houses and lands, and food to spare 
for you all. Return to me, therefore, bringing our 
father Jacob, and bring your households and your 
flocks and herds, and come and live in this land, 
where I am second only to the king.” 

Quickly did the sorrow of the brothers turn to 
joy as Joseph kissed each of them, in proof of his 
forgiveness. They hastened home to their father 
with the glad news, and soon returned with him 
and their households to live in peace and plenty in 
the land of Egypt. For many years they dwelt in 
this land under the protection of Joseph, who had 
forgiven the great wrong done to him many years 
before. 


VII 


REBEKAH AT THE WELL 

For many days the little caravan had traveled 
over the burning sands, toward the little town of 
Haran. Now they had reached the gates of the 
city, and the tired camels sank upon their knees 
near the village well, where the flocks and herds 
came for water, and it was the hour when the 
women, as was the custom, came out to draw water 
for their household. 

When, at the command of the drivers, the camels 
had settled themselves upon the ground, the leader 
of the caravan lifted his face toward heaven and 
said a prayer of gratitude for his safe journey. 
Just as he finished his prayer, a group of the village 
women reached the well and began to draw water. 
Among them was one very beautiful maiden, who 
carried her pitcher upon her shoulder. 

When she had filled her pitcher and was carrying 
it dripping with cool water from the well, the stranger 
came forward and said to her, “Pray give me some 
water to drink.” 

The maiden, seeing how weary and tired the 
stranger was, took her pitcher down from her 
shoulder and put it to his lips, while he drank deeply 
to quench his thirst. Then she said, “If you will 
allow me, I will draw water for thy camels also, for 
they must be thirsty even as thou.” 

With this, she poured the water from her pitcher 
into the drinking trough, and went back to the well 
33 


34 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


for more water, and kept pouring into the trough 
until the camels had their fill. 

While the maiden was busy in this way, the 
stranger had kept his eyes upon her, but had spoken 
no word. When she had finished her task he came 
forward to meet her and, bowing before her, he 
offered her as a present a beautiful golden ring and 
two golden bracelets. 

Then the stranger said to her, “Tell me, I pray 
thee, to what family dost thou belong, and if there is 
room in thy father’s house for a stranger to spend 
the night as he pauses in his journey.” The maiden 
told him that her father’s name was Bethuel, and 
said, “There is room and to spare for thee and thy 
camels as well.” 

When the stranger heard her speak these words 
he did what seemed to be a strange thing, he lifted 
his face again to heaven and gave thanks to God, 
saying aloud, “The Lord in his goodness has led 
me to the very household that my master desired 
me to find.” 

Now, to understand these strange words, you 
must understand that the stranger was the servant 
of Abraham, the leader of the Hebrews. The ten 
camels of the caravan were Abraham’s camels, and 
the burdens of beautiful silks, embroideries, silver 
and gold, which they carried on their backs, also 
belonged to Abraham. Abraham had sent his 
servant, with the camels carrying beautiful presents, 
back to his old home, that he might there find a 
wife for Abraham’s son, Isaac, from among his own 
people. 

When the maiden had received the presents from 
the stranger and heard the prayer he prayed, she 


REBEKAH AT THE WELL 


35 


ran home before him and told her mother all that 
had happened. Her brother Laban then went out 
by the well to find the stranger and bring him to 
their home. They made the camels comfortable for 
the night, and then gathered for the evening meal. 

When they were at the table the stranger said, 
“I will not eat until I have told you who I am and 
why I have come here. ,, 

“Tell us,” they said. 

“I am the servant of the great Abraham, leader 
of his people and friend of God. He has untold 
silver and gold, flocks and herds without number. 
He has men servants and maid servants and many 
camels. Our people love him and are glad to obey 
his word. Abraham has a son, Isaac, whom he 
loves as he loves his own life. For him he would 
choose a wife from among this people, who are of 
his own blood and kindred. 

“He has, therefore, sent me to choose out the 
maiden who is most beautiful and kind, to be the 
wife of his beloved son Isaac. When I was setting 
out on this journey my master said to me, ‘The 
Lord, before whom I walk, will send his angel with 
thee, and prosper thy ways/ I have, therefore, 
come at his bidding to find a wife for his son Isaac, 
even as he said. 

“When I came to the well this evening, knowing 
that I had reached the end of my journey, I prayed 
this prayer to the Lord God, saying, ‘O Lord, the 
God of my master Abraham, if now thou do prosper 
my way which I go: behold, I stand by the fountain 
of water; and let it come to pass, that the maiden 
which cometh forth to draw, to whom I shall say, 
Give me, I pray thee, a little water of thy pitcher 


36 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


to drink; and she shall say to me, ‘Both drink thou, 
and I will also draw water for thy camels; let the 
same be the woman whom the Lord hath appointed 
for my master’s son.’ 

“Behold, even as I finished my prayer, this 
beautiful maiden, even Rebekah, came down to the 
well, and I asked her to give me to drink. At once 
she gave me water and then offered to draw water 
for my camels as well. When she told me her 
father’s name, behold, I knew it was the very family 
that my master Abraham had chosen as the one 
from which the wife of his son Isaac should come. 

“By this I know, therefore, that the Lord God 
has prospered my way, and has sent his angel be¬ 
fore my face to guide me and to help me in my 
search. And now I beg that you may tell me, will 
this beautiful maiden, even Rebekah, return with 
me to my master’s house, even Abraham’s, to make 
glad his heart for his son Isaac’s sake?” 

The father made answer, “Let the maiden speak 
for herself. This matter is ordered of the Lord God, 
and we will not stand in the way of its coming to 
pass, as he wills.” 

Rebekah said that she would go to the house of 
Abraham and become the wife of Isaac. Then the 
servants brought out all the rich presents which 
Abraham had sent. There were presents for Rebekah 
the maiden, presents for her mother and for all the 
family. 

The next morning Rebekah’s parents gave her 
much rich clothing, and maid-servants of her own 
to go with her to her own home. 

The caravan arrived at the home of Abraham. 
Isaac was out in the field. As he saw the caravan 


REBEKAH AT THE WELL 


37 


returning, he looked, and behold, a beautiful maiden 
got down from her camel and came toward him, 
walking with a veil over her face. Quickly did 
Isaac go to meet Rebekah, holding out his hands to 
her in welcome. 

Thus did Rebekah come to live in the tent of 
Isaac and be his wife. 


VIII 


TIMOTHY, THE BOY WHO FOLLOWED 
JESUS 

It was late spring in the village of Lystra. Not 
far from one of the little white houses that looked 
almost like marble as the sun shone upon it, was 
the figure of a boy of nine or ten, stretched out flat 
on the ground under a fig tree. His white tunic was 
rumpled; there was a large black spot upon his left 
cheek, and his whole appearance was that of a boy 
who since the rising of the sun had been roaming 
through the fields and having the best time a lad 
could have. Just now, lying face down, resting upon 
his elbows, he was watching closely the insects in a 
big ant-hill, as they scurried about, each one busily 
at work on its particular task. 

“Timothy! Timothy!” a sweet call sounded from 
the steps of the house near by. “Timothy, thou 
must come now and do thy lessons.” 

For a moment, the boy looked very cross. He 
had wanted to stay out and play a while longer. 
Then he quickly sprang to his feet and, with a 
cheery answer, he started back toward the house. 
He had remembered that on the day before his 
mother had promised him that on the morrow she 
would tell him the story of Jesus of Nazareth and 
his followers, who went about doing good, being 
kind to little children and helpful to those who were 
sick. 


38 


TIMOTHY 


39 


As Timothy hurried toward the house, he thought 
of the things some of the other boys often said, 
complaining about their lessons, and how they 
sometimes found fault with their teachers. But 
Timothy was fortunate, for he had the two best 
teachers in all of Lystra, he was sure—his mother, 
Eunice, and his grandmother, Lois. 

Often the people in the town talked about the 
day when the two women had come to be followers 
of Jesus of Nazareth. “Surely,” was the thought of 
many, “they will strive to make the lad, too, a 
follower of the Galilean.” 

Busy days passed in the home of Timothy. He 
did many things about the home; and he jumped 
and raced with the other lads in the town until he 
became the champion of them all. “He must have 
a strong body if he is to do his work in the world,” 
his mother often said, and she was always glad when 
he was playing with his friends. 

Every day, too, a certain amount of time was set 
aside for his lessons. Sometimes Eunice was his 
teacher, and sometimes he studied under his grand¬ 
mother, Lois. In those days there were not nearly 
as many books as there are now, and they taught 
him mostly from the Old Testament. They spent 
countless hours, too, in telling him stories of Jesus 
of Nazareth. 

As Timothy grew older he, too, loved the great 
Master, and he wished that he might be able to do 
something to show his love. “Would that I could 
do something big for Jesus,” he confided to his 
mother one day. “But I can’t think of anything 
now.” 

“Perhaps,” his mother said, “one of the teachers 


40 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


and followers of Jesus will come here some day, and 
thou canst talk it all over with him.” She was very 
happy over her son’s wish, and she felt sure that 
some day his opportunity would come. 

A few years passed, and Timothy had grown to 
be one of the sturdiest and most upright youths in 
all of Lystra. 

“Mother!” he burst into the house with the cry. 
“Mother, wilt not thou and grandmother hurry 
with me to the market place? They say that Paul 
the apostle, the disciple of Jesus, is coming, and 
that he is even now entering the city!” 

Toward the market place the three hurried. They 
had hoped for so long that a great teacher would 
come that now they could hardly wait to see him 
and to hear his words of wisdom. A crowd was 
gathered in the square, and many people were 
running from all directions. “Come quickly,” they 
called to one another. “Paul, the great teacher, 
has come!” Standing on an elevation, there was the 
stranger. Timothy could not see his face plainly, 
because of the throng of people. 

“Ye men of Lystra,” the teacher’s words sounded 
clearly over the heads of his listeners, “have you 
heard of Jesus of Nazareth? He is the Messiah for 
whom the Hebrews have been looking for hundreds 
of years. Let me tell you about him, so that you 
too may go out and serve him.” 

Hardly had Paul said these words when there 
was a stir in the crowd. Some one was trying to 
push his way to the front. “It is Timothy,” said 
one. “Ho! Timothy!” mocked a lad who had ever 
been jealous of Timothy’s skill in their games, 
“art thou, too, going to become a Christian?” But 


TIMOTHY 


4i 


Timothy never hesitated. Straight toward Paul he 
made his way. 

“Rabbi,” his words sounded as clear as the tones 
of a temple bell, “rabbi, I would serve Jesus! Tell 
me what I may do!” 

A deep hush fell upon the crowd. One or two, 
who had come to jeer, turned away, ashamed. On 
the edge of the throng, for they had not been able 
to force their way to the front, Eunice and Lois 
stood, their arms about each other. Their faces 
were alight with joy and thanksgiving. “Let us 
thank God,” they murmured, “for Timothy, our 
son; and may God use him in his service.” 

For hours Paul talked with the people, telling 
them the story of the man of Galilee, of how he had 
gone about doing good, how he had finally been put 
to death, but was still living in the hearts of his 
believers. As he talked, Timothy stood by his side 
or sometimes he went down into the crowd and 
encouraged some one who was almost ready to begin 
to serve the Master. 

Night was drawing on when Paul, placing his 
hand upon Timothy’s shoulder, in a voice filled with 
praise and thankfulness, said: 

“My lad, this day hast thou begun thy great work 
for Jesus. From now on thou shalt serve him in joy 
and blessedness.” 

And Timothy, his head bowed, silently thanked 
God for the joy that had come to him that day. 


IX 


IN HIS FATHER’S HOUSE 

For many years Jesus had looked forward to the 
time when he would be old enough to go with his 
parents to Jerusalem to the Feast of the Passover. 
“When you are twelve years old,” his mother and 
father had promised him, “you may go ‘with us 
to Jerusalem.” And this had made Jesus very 
happy. 

“I shall see the caravans from Damascus,” he 
told himself, “and surely there will be rug-makers 
there from Persia. Maybe I shall see some of the 
wise men from Egypt; perhaps I may even be able 
to get a scarab for my very own.” Then his mind 
turned to the wonderful things he had been study¬ 
ing, and of the story he had heard so many times 
about the Passover night, when God had delivered 
the Israelites from the hand of Pharaoh. Over and 
over he had said to himself: “I shall go to the 
Temple, and perhaps I may even sit at the feet of 
the great teachers—if only I might do that! Then 
I could learn more about God, who is my heavenly 
Father.” 

At last the day came. Everyone who could 
possibly leave his work had made preparation to 
go from Nazareth to Jerusalem. Together they set 
out, a long, happy procession. Gay colors caught 
the sunlight, for everyone was wearing his best. The 
little children kept close to their mothers’ sides, but 
42 


IN HIS FATHER’S HOUSE 


43 


the boys of Jesus’ age, who were trustworthy and 
able to care for themselves, were allowed to go 
about, first staying with friends, at one end of the 
line, and then groups of lads going on swift side 
expeditions. There were many interesting things 
to be seen, and for many of them it was their 
first real journey away from the little hill-town of 
Nazareth. 

To the great white and gold Temple went Jesus 
with his parents, after they reached the city of 
Jerusalem. He heard the blowing of the sacred 
horns announcing that the time had come for the 
services to begin. The choirs, chanting the psalms of 
David, thrilled him with their music. He watched 
the men of the Temple go out, with sickles and 
baskets, to cut the sheaf of barley that was threshed, 
and after being dried over a sacred fire, was ground 
into fine flour, and offered unto God as the first 
fruit of the harvest. 

Then the day came when every road leading out 
of Jerusalem was thronged with people. The Feast 
of the Passover was over, and everyone was home¬ 
ward bound. The pilgrims from Nazareth were in 
one group, and Joseph and Mary and the younger 
children were traveling happily along the way. It 
was good to have been at Jerusalem, but they were 
glad to be going home again. 

When evening came, and the procession had 
stopped for the night, Mary turned to Joseph. 
“Isn’t it strange that Jesus doesn’t leave his friends 
and come to us?” she asked him. “He has been with 
them all day, but now that it is night he should 
come back to us.” A search was made up and down 
the line of travelers. “Have you seen Jesus?” 


44 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


anxiously the question was repeated. But every¬ 
where came the answer, “No, he has not been with 
us to-day.” 

Then, frantic with anxiety, Mary and Joseph 
turned back toward Jerusalem. Mary wept as they 
retraced their steps, and Joseph strode on, filled 
with anger at himself. “To think that I, whom God 
chose to look after the child, should be so neglectful 
of my trust!” he groaned to himself. “Unfaithful! 
Unfaithful!” 

At best, it took them a whole day to reach the 
city. All along the way they had searched for Jesus, 
but no trace of him could they find. Through the 
city they hunted, looking in every place where a boy 
might be. But when night came they had not found 
him. Up they rose with the dawn, and finally, they 
turned their steps toward the Temple, gleaming 
white in the sunlight. 

“Hark!” Mary clutched Joseph’s arm, just as 
they passed into the twilight of the sacred place of 
worship. “That sounds like the voice of Jesus!” 
Joseph’s voice trembled with eagerness. “Can it be 
he?” 

Quickly they passed through court and temple 
porch until they came to a room in which was a 
group of learned doctors. There in the midst of the 
men, eagerly listening to every word, and asking 
questions that were amazing in the knowledge and 
wisdom they showed, was Jesus. 

“Son, everywhere have we sought thee with 
anxious hearts!” cried Mary, quickly stepping to his 
side. But Jesus, who had long been hoping for the 
time when in the Temple he could learn more about 
the God whom he loved as his heavenly Father, and 


IN HIS FATHER’S HOUSE 


45 

whom he had always tried to serve, could not under¬ 
stand his mother’s anxiety. 

“But why did you search for me?” he answered. 
“Did you not know that I should be in my Father’s 
house?” 


X 


THE FOUR FISHERMEN OF GALILEE 

“Jesus is down by the Sea of Galilee! Let us go 
and find him!” From lip to lip the news had flown, 
until the great Teacher was surrounded by an 
enormous crowd of people. Eagerly they pressed 
forward to hear his wonderful words, crowding 
against one another, until they had finally pushed 
Jesus clear to the water’s edge. Gentle little waves 
lapped his feet, and still the eager multitude crowded 
against him, jostling each other in their great desire 
to be near the marvelous Teacher. 

Turning his head, Jesus could see two boats not 
very far from the shore. In them were the four 
fishermen, Simon Peter, Andrew, James, and John. 
They were working hard, for they were washing their 
heavy nets and making ready for their next catch. 
The work of a fisherman was often disagreeable and 
extremely hard, but they were working with a will, 
and sometimes a cheerful word or a strain of song 
floated back on the breeze to the crowd on the 
shore. Occasionally the four stopped for a moment 
and looked back toward the group on the land, as 
though wishing that they too were in the throng 
about Jesus. 

For those four men were not strangers to the 
Master. Already they had listened to his teachings 
and had talked with him, and he knew that they 
were friendly toward him and his work. “Surely/’ 
Jesus thought, “they will be glad to make room for 
46 


THE FOUR FISHERMEN OF GALILEE 47 


me in their boat.” For a moment he hesitated to 
call them from their task, but he knew that Simon 
and Andrew would be glad for a chance to help, and 
then, too, perhaps he could repay them later in the 
day for their service. 

“O Simon! Simon!” Clearly the voice of Jesus 
sounded out over the water, through his cupped 
hands. 

Quickly Simon and Andrew stopped their work 
on the net, and grasping the oars, they pulled 
rapidly in toward the shore. 

“Simon,” said the Master, “thou seest how the 
throng presses against me. Take me in thy boat, I 
pray thee, that I may more easily teach them. Wilt 
thou do for me this service?” 

A wild flush of pride and embarrassment colored 
the faces of the two simple-hearted brothers. What 
an honor to have the Master, the Man of Galilee, 
whom people were calling the Messiah, in their 
boat! For a moment they were silent and discon¬ 
certed. Then Simon, always the more impulsive of 
the two, sprang to his feet in the boat, which rocked 
with the sudden motion. 

“Master, gladly will we serve thee!” and there 
was such a ring of sincerity in his, voice that the 
Teacher’s face grew bright with pleasure. 

Quickly the boat was shoved in on the sands. 
The two men, working hurriedly, shoved the nets 
away at one end of the craft, and carefully washing 
and drying the seat in the bow, that none of the 
slime and dirt from the nets could remain, they 
helped Jesus to his place. 

For hours, rocking on the gently moving waves, a 
little distance from the shore, the great Rabbi taught 


48 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


the people. His sweet voice sounded melodiously 
across the water, and as he talked their eyes opened 
widely with interest, and their faces grew bright 
with happiness as he told them of the love of God, 
their heavenly Father, and that no matter what 
their sins, if they would only repent they would be 
forgiven. 

Crouching in the boats, not even conscious of their 
cramped, uncomfortable position, the two brothers 
listened with rapt attention. Forgotten were the 
fish and their nets, their thoughts were only of Jesus. 

At last the Rabbi ceased speaking and the crowd 
on the shore unwillingly turned away. Only for a 
moment, as though resting, was Jesus silent. Then, 
“Put out into the deep,” his words came, as though 
it were early morning and he were eager to be at 
work. “Put out into the deep, and let down your 
nets for a catch,” he said to Simon. 

Hardly had the fishermen awakened from the 
ecstasy with which they had been listening to the 
Master. Shaking himself, as a man awakening from 
a deep sleep, Simon answered: 

“Master, we toiled all night and took nothing, but 
at thy word I will let down the nets.” And as 
Simon thought of the useless work of the night, 
there was a shade of discouragement in his voice. 

Perhaps, the two men were afraid that they would 
have continued bad luck and that Jesus would think 
them poor fishermen. They did want to appear at 
their best in his eyes; in some way he always 
brought out the best qualities of those with whom 
he came in contact. 

Willingly and with the skill of adepts, they let 
down their nets. Hardly had the water closed over 


THE FOUR FISHERMEN OF GALILEE 49 

them when there came a tug as of many fish. A look 
of surprise, almost of disbelief, came over the faces 
of the two men. They had fished right here all the 
night before, and now their nets were straining with 
the weight of the catch. For a moment Simon and 
Andrew, while Jesus looked quietly on, struggled 
with their heavy net. Then, with a murmured word, 
“We must have help, or we shall lose the fish,” 
Simon beckoned to their helpers, James and John, 
whose boat was anchored near by, to come to their 
assistance. 

Rapidly, with never a wasted motion, the four 
men worked together as one. Jesus, as he watched 
them, delighted in their skill and in the way in which 
they toiled together. As he sat there, idle for the 
moment, he was thinking of his own work, of how 
like helpless fish the men of Palestine were, and 
of the great need he too had for helpers. He 
thought of the strong bodies of the four men near 
him, and he delighted in the even play of their firm 
muscles. They were kind-hearted, too, and courteous, 
and how willingly Simon and Andrew had left their 
work when he had asked them! They had said they 
had fished all night, with never a catch; how 
patient and how industrious they were! 

While these thoughts were going through the mind 
of the Master, the four men had succeeded in hauling 
in the net, part in one boat and the rest in the other, 
and so great and so heavy was the catch that both 
boats settled more deeply into the water. Amaze¬ 
ment filled the minds of the four men; never before 
had they seen such a haul! Suddenly, overwhelmed 
with wonder and with his feeling of unworthiness, 
Simon threw himself down at the feet of Jesus. 


50 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


“Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, 0 Lord!” 
his voice shook with emotion, and he looked plead¬ 
ingly up into the Master’s face. 

In those moments Jesus had made his decision. 
These four men were to be his helpers. Bending over 
the kneeling Simon, his voice filled with a divine 
assurance, he said: 

“Fear not; from henceforth thou shalt catch 
men.” And the four fishermen knew that Jesus 
meant that they should have a part in his work, 
teaching men, and bringing them to the Master. 
Quickly they rowed their boats to the shore, and 
the Bible tells us that “they left all and followed 
him.” 


\ 


XI 


HOW A SICK GIRL WAS CURED 

This is the story of a girl who was twelve years 
of age, and who lived with her father and mother 
in a beautiful home in the country, in a far-away land 
and a time long ago. 

It chanced that this girl became ill and her sick¬ 
ness grew until day by day she became weaker, and 
it was feared that she might never be well again. 
There came a time when she was so weak that she 
lay very white and still on her bed, with her eyelids 
closed, and her breathing so faint that it could 
scarcely be heard. Her father had left his work that 
day to come and sit by his daughter’s bedside, for 
she liked to place her hand in his, and she was very 
sick. 

Suddenly, while the father thought his daughter 
was asleep, she opened her eyes and said: “Father, 
is Jesus of Nazareth still in our town? One day be¬ 
fore I became sick I saw him down by the market 
place, and he spoke to me and the other children so 
kindly that we all loved him and followed him. He 
goes about helping people, and I think he could 
make me well.” 

# Now, the father had thought of this same thing 
himself, for he had heard how Jesus was able to heal 
those who were sick, and, when his daughter, after 
a moment of silence, again opened her eyes and 
whispered, “Please, father, will you not find Jesus 
and ask him to come and make me well,” he decided 
5i 


52 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


to go at once and find the Master, and beg him to 
come and heal his daughter. 

The father called the girl’s mother to come and 
sit by her while he hurried into the town to see 
whether he could find where Jesus was staying. He 
found him in a friend’s house, and approaching 
Jesus, cried out, “Please, Master, I fear that my 
daughter is dying! Will you not come quickly and 
lay your hands on the child, that she may live?” 

Jesus arose quickly and went with the father. 
When the crowd saw him going along the street, 
many followed him, each person trying to get near 
enough to see him well, to look up into his face, or 
to hear the words he was speaking to those nearest 
to him. 

Among those who were following him was a poor 
woman who, for many years, had been ill with a 
disease that the doctors were unable to cure. She 
was weak and very weary, and did not hope to get 
near enough to Jesus to touch his hand or to speak 
to him. She said to herself, “If I could even touch 
the hem of his garment, I am sure that I should be 
healed.” And so, coming as close as she could, she 
put out her hand and touched the edge of his robe, 
and immediately she felt the thrill of health and life, 
and knew that she was healed. 

Jesus, knowing that someone had touched his 
robe, turned about, and looking kindly at the 
woman, asked, “Who touched me?” Then he spoke 
comforting words to her, and she went on her way 
happy and rejoicing. 

While all this was going on the father of the girl 
was much worried over the delay, and he spoke to 
Jesus: “Master, will you not please hasten, for my 


HOW A SICK GIRL WAS CURED 


53 

daughter is very ill, and she will surely die before 
we can reach her.” 

And, sure enough, the father had hardly spoken 
when they saw a servant running rapidly toward 
them. This servant came from the home of the 
sick girl, and said to his master, “Thy daughter is 
already dead. Do not trouble Jesus any more.” 

Jesus was sorry for the father, who began to grieve 
over his daughter, and said to him, “Fear not, only 
believe and she shall be made whole.” When they 
reached the house, they heard sounds of sorrow and 
weeping. Friends and neighbors had been told that 
the girl had died, and the mourners had come. 

Jesus came among them and said, “Weep not, for 
she is not dead, but sleepeth.” When he had passed 
by, they laughed him to scorn, being sure that she 
was dead. 

The father and mother led Jesus to the room 
where their daughter lay, still and breathless. 
Quietly and tenderly he bent over her, took her 
hand in his and called to her, saying, “Maiden, 
arise.” Quickly the color came back to her cheeks. 
She began to breathe. Her eyes opened. She sat up 
in bed, and then threw her arms around her father’s 
neck. The next moment she was out of bed, walking 
about, seemingly as well as ever. 

Jesus told her father and mother to give her food, 
and soon they were sitting down to a feast together. 

Neither the father nor mother nor the girl herself 
ever forgot their good Friend, who, when she was 
sick, had made her well again. 


XII 


JESUS AMONG HIS FRIENDS 

The pretty village of Bethany was only two miles 
from Jerusalem. Its small whitewashed houses shone 
in the sun almost like marble. In the green trees, 
birds hopped about from twig to branch, singing 
happily, and now and then a lark soared high above 
the fields, and its gay melody came floating down. 

In one of those little white houses lived three 
people who were among Jesus’ closest friends. 
Mary, Martha, and Lazarus were their names, and 
they were brother and sisters. Often Jesus went 
there, and on every occasion he was welcomed with 
all sorts of loving attention; Lazarus hastened to 
meet him; Mary had cool water brought to bathe 
the dust from his feet; and Martha bustled about 
the house, preparing a quiet room that he might 
rest, and delicious fruits and foods to tempt his 
appetite. 

Frequently, after they had eaten, the four lingered 
long about the table. Lazarus and Jesus often dis¬ 
cussed the affairs of the day, just as men talk of 
such things now. Sometimes, if Lazarus were not 
at home, Mary would sit for hours near Jesus, 
listening to him as he talked, or asking questions 
about many things. Martha, who was what we 
would call a “practical” person, was usually hurry¬ 
ing here and there about the house, doing everything 
she could think of to make her Master more com- 
54 


JESUS AMONG HIS FRIENDS 55 

fortable. Now and then she would pause and listen 
for a moment to his words. 

One day, when she was tired and, perhaps, every¬ 
thing had not gone well with her baking, she had 
suddenly thought, “Why doesn’t Mary help me?” 
and, almost without thinking, she turned to Jesus, 
with “Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath 
left me to serve alone? Bid her therefore that she 
help me.” And Jesus saw how tired she was, so he 
said to her, “Martha, thou art troubled and anxious 
over many things. Mary has chosen the better 
part.” And he explained to Martha that he did not 
care so much about having rich foods and constant 
attention, but that he was there to talk with them, 
and to rest from his hard work. 

Many times Jesus visited there in Bethany. Often, 
perhaps, Mary and Martha invited the people of 
the village in to talk with their Lord. Sometimes 
they gave special feasts for him, and always there 
was great joy and happiness when he came into 
their home. 

But one day there came a great sadness to them. 
Lazarus was taken very sick. Frightened, the sisters 
thought of their best friend, Jesus, and sent word 
to him by messenger, “Lord, behold, he whom thou 
lovest is sick.” But when Jesus heard it he said, 
“This sickness will not end in death, but because of 
it many people who have hitherto doubted me will 
come to know and love me as never before.” 

Then, after two days, Jesus said to his disciples, 
“Let us go back to Bethany, to the home of Mary 
and Martha.” But the disciples knew that Jesus’ 
enemies in the region about Bethany were anxious 
to work out their wicked plans against him, and he 


56 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


was urged to stay away from the place. But Jesus 
said, “Our friend, Lazarus, is fallen asleep, but I go 
that I may awake him out of his sleep.” The dis¬ 
ciples did not know that he meant that Lazarus was 
dead, and they said, still trying to keep him from 
going to Bethany, “But, Lord, if he is asleep, surely 
he will recover.” Then Jesus answered them plainly, 
“Lazarus is dead.” 

As Jesus and the men drew near their friends’ 
house in Bethany, the sounds of grief came to their 
ears. They heard the mournful sound of the flute, 
and the loud wailing of the hired mourners. Martha, 
her face swollen from weeping, when she heard that 
he was coming, hurried out to meet him. Mary 
still sat in the house. “O, Lord,” broken-heartedly 
Martha cried, throwing herself at Jesus’ feet, “if 
thou hadst been here, my brother would not have 
died! And even now I know that whatsoever thou 
shalt ask of God, he will give thee.” 

Quickly Jesus stooped to comfort her. “Thy 
brother shall live again,” he said. She did not 
understand exactly what Jesus meant, but just to 
have him near comforted her. Then she thought of 
Mary, weeping in the house, and she quickly sent 
a message back, saying, “The Master is here and 
calleth thee.” 

When Jesus saw Mary coming toward him, her 
long veil covering her face and her whole figure 
stooped with sorrow, he was sadly troubled. The 
mourners, who had followed Mary from the house, 
crowded about, weeping and wailing loudly. 

With a whispered word of encouragement to the 
sisters, Jesus turned away and walked into the 
garden where the tomb of Lazarus was, to bring 


JESUS AMONG HIS FRIENDS 


57 

back his friend to life and strength. Hardly any 
time at all had passed, when Lazarus, a flush of 
health upon his cheeks, and his eyes filled with 
happiness, came forth with Jesus and joined his 
sisters and their friends. Surprised, many of them 
frightened, and all of them filled with awe, the 
mourners turned away, and Mary and Martha and 
Lazarus were left alone with their Friend. 


XIII 


THE BOY WHO BECAME A FRIEND OF 
JESUS 

It was a truly beautiful day. The sun seemed to 
be rising out of the Sea of Galilee, and there was a 
path of gold sparkling across the blue waters. Red 
lilies made splashes of color among the green grasses. 
From high above the fields there came the lilting 
melody of a lark, and the sparrows flitting about 
kept up a continuous happy prattle. In his tiny 
upper room a boy was dressing hurriedly, making 
ready for a day’s outing in the country. 

“Son,” his mother had said the night before, “to¬ 
morrow is thy birthday, and I shall let thee do 
whatever thou dost wish all the day. I only ask 
that thou dost get into no mischief.” 

He had gone to bed filled with happy anticipation. 
Suddenly he had thought of the wonderful stories 
he had heard the men in the neighborhood tell of 
him whom they called Jesus of Nazareth; how he 
had healed a blind man, how he had even brought 
back to life a girl whom everyone had believed to 
be dead, and how kind and gentle he was with the 
children. 

“Perhaps, mother,” he had suggested, as he 
chattered through his breakfast, “perhaps I might 
go north along the lake and find Jesus of Nazareth. 
Neighbor Timothy said that he and his disciples 
were near Bethsaida yesterday.” 

58 


A FRIEND OF JESUS S9 

And his mother, as she watched him swinging 
sturdily along the shore, hurrying eagerly toward 
the north, his package of lunch under his arm, 
said a little prayer to the God of her fathers that 
her son might be kept safe through the day, and 
that he might see the wonder-working Man from 
Nazareth. 

Along the beach hastened the boy. The way to 
Bethsaida was long, and the sun had already dried 
the dew from the grass. Now he stopped just for a 
moment to watch a gull dip down into the water, 
but after that he hurried on again twice as fast. 

“What’s that?” he said suddenly to himself. “It 
sounds like many people talking together.” He left 
the sandy shore of the lake, and walked through the 
lilies until he could see the road. “Why, it’s crowded 
with people—and what can it mean? Many of them 
are lame. There’s a man carrying a little girl—O, 
they, too, have heard about Jesus of Nazareth and 
they are going to find him!” 

With a word of greeting to a friend here and there 
in the group, he sped on, and soon he was near the 
front of the procession. As they went, people joined 
them from every side, and sometimes they overtook 
cripples, lame or blind, or so sick that they had 
to lie down by the side of the road to rest. 

“There he is!” came the cry. “There is Jesus of 
Nazareth! Hail, Master!” and loving friends urged 
on the weary ones whose illnesses had made them 
lag behind. “Jesus of Nazareth is ahead just a 
little way and he will cure you!” 

Swift as an arrow went the boy toward the crowd, 
in the midst of which he knew he would find Jesus. 
Wriggling about among the people, sliding through 


6o 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


openings that seemed hardly large enough to let him 
through, around men wasted with illness and lying 
on pallets, past women whose pain-racked faces 
wore a new look of hope, clear up to the front rank 
of people he made his way. And then he saw Jesus! 

Tall he was, and straight as the noblest cedar of 
Lebanon. His face, tanned by the hot suns of the 
desert, was more gentle even than that of the boy’s 
own mother’s as she had cared for him when he had 
been ill. “How strong he must be!” enviously 
thought the lad, looking at the strong muscles of 
Jesus’ arms, and then he remembered that back in 
Nazareth Jesus had been a carpenter. 

“If he would only speak to me!” wished the boy, 
and started to push his way nearer to the Master. 
But just then he saw a little girl who was so lame 
she could barely walk and who was struggling for¬ 
ward to reach the healer. So the lad stepped back, 
to make room for her. Hardly could he believe his 
eyes when he saw her turn, after the Master had 
taken her in his arms and touched the crippled leg, 
and firmly as the lad himself, go back into the crowd 
where her sister was waiting for her. She didn’t 
even walk the whole distance; for, delighted by the 
new feeling of strength and eager to see what she 
could do, she covered part of the way with a hop, a 
skip, and a jump! 

So it went all day; and Jesus taught them wonder¬ 
ful things and healed many who were sick. Once 
there came a man who for years had been sick in 
his mind; “possessed of demons,” they called it 
then. With a word, Jesus had commanded the evil 
spirit to leave his victim, and now that man was 
going about in the crowd, helping those who were 


A FRIEND OF JESUS 61 

too ill to make way by themselves, to a place near 
the Master. 

It seemed as though hardly an hour could have 
passed, when the disciples, glancing toward the west, 
where the sun was sinking in a blaze of crimson and 
orange, said, “Master, let us send the people away, 
for the evening has come, and they have had nothing 
to eat for hours.” 

But Jesus answered them, “They have no need to 
go away; give ye them to eat.” 

“Why, Master,” they had answered, “we cannot 
feed them, for we have no food, and there are five 
thousand men here who must be fed.” 

“Search ye,” the Master said, “and bring what 
food ye can find.” 

Straight toward the boy came Andrew, one of 
Jesus’ followers. “Lad, what have ye there?” he 
said, pointing to the little package of lunch. 

“Only five barley loaves and two fishes,” answered 
the boy quickly, “but the Master may have them 
all.” 

Close beside Andrew the lad moved. After Jesus 
had blessed the bread, the lad heard him say, “Give 
to all the people who are here, and if any food is left, 
gather up the fragments.” 

Soon the disciples were back. “Everyone hath 
had his fill, Master,” they said, “and here is what 
was left over.” And they placed before Jesus twelve 
baskets filled with broken pieces! 

And then we can imagine that the wonderful 
thing for which the lad had been wishing all day, 
but for which he had hardly dared hope, happened! 
Perhaps a strong hand was laid on his shoulder, and 


62 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


in his ear he heard the voice of the Master, deep and 
sweet as the low tones of the temple harps: 

“My lad, blessed shalt thou be forever, for in 
giving thy loaves and thy fishes thou hast helped 
me in my work to-day.” 


XIV 

THE FORGIVING FATHER 


Once there was a father who had two sons. 

“Father,” said the younger son, “give me the 
share of the property that falls to me. I am tired 
of staying here and never doing anything that seems 
interesting. Please give me my share, and let me go 
into the world!” 

Sadly the father bowed his head as the young 
man spoke. Through his mind there flashed pic¬ 
tures of the happy life he and his wife and the two 
boys had enjoyed. He saw the two curly-haired lads 
as they looked back in the days when they had been 
children. But finally when he was convinced of the 
boy’s earnestness, he portioned out to him his share. 
“Go, my son,” he gave him his blessing, “and may 
the Lord be with thee.” 

Gaily the young man traveled along the dusty 
roads toward the far country that was his goal. 
“At last I shall see the world!” he had told his elder 
brother as he started on his journey. 

Sometimes, as the youth passed through small 
towns and villages, he would stop and join the 
young men in their good times. He bought many 
rich robes for himself, and other things to add to 
the pleasure of his journey. Sometimes he threw 
handfuls of silver to the beggars, just to see them 
fight and scramble for the coins. 

At last he reached the distant country he had so 
wanted to see. He was fascinated by the strange 
63 


64 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


sights, the peculiar customs, and the picturesque 
clothing of the people. He spent long hours in the 
market place, buying many things which interested 
him. His wealth and generosity brought a large 
number of young men about him, and he gave many 
a merry party to his new friends. “At last,” he 
thought, “I am perfectly happy.” And he was so 
happy that he forgot all about his father and brother 
at home. 

It was not long before things changed. A famine 
was in the land, and both cattle and people were 
dying for lack of food. Days, weeks, and months 
had passed with never a drop of rain to moisten the 
parched earth. Heat waves shimmered above the 
yellow sands. Slowly the corn dropped on its stalks, 
until no living plants were left. People who had 
been wise enough to store up food against a famine, 
ate sparingly of what they had saved; great prices 
were charged for food in the market places. Every¬ 
where the people suffered. 

During all those days the young stranger had 
been living joyfully and thoughtlessly. Each party 
that he gave was more magnificent and costly than 
any of the others. More and more friends had 
gathered about him, and he was always the central 
figure in their good times. But one morning his 
servant came to him and said: 

“0, master, give me, I pray thee, more money 
that I may buy food and pay the wages of thine 
other servants. Thou knowest of the famine, and 
the high cost of everything which we need.” 

“Go to the hiding place,” was the reply of the 
young man, “and bring me what money thou findest 
there.” 


THE FORGIVING FATHER 65 

Hardly had the servant left his master before he 
was back again; his face was pale with fear. 

O, master,” tremblingly he spoke, “thine hiding 
place is empty. There is not even a single piece of 
silver there!” 

Days of misery, of want, of actual starvation, 
dragged slowly by. The young man’s friends de¬ 
serted him, one by one, until he was left alone. 
Driven by desperation, he at last hired himself out 
to one of the citizens of that country. It seemed 
that his misfortune was complete when he was 
commanded to feed the swine, and he was so hungry 
that he would have liked to eat the husks himself. 

Then, one day, the Bible tells us, he came to 
himself. “How many hired servants of my father’s 
have bread enough and to spare, and I perish here 
with hunger!” he thought. “I will arise and go to 
my father, and will say unto him, ‘Father, I have 
sinned against heaven and in thy sight; I am no 
more worthy to be called thy son; make me as one 
of thy hired servants!’ ” Thus he planned what he 
would say to his father, as he slowly struggled over 
the long miles back to his home. At last he drew 
near his home, dusty, and so weary he could hardly 
drag himself along. 

On up the road he came, dragging one foot after 
the other, and looking neither to right nor to left. 
But his father saw him and ran forward eagerly, his 
hands outstretched. 

“My son! My son! At last you have returned!” 
and the father threw his arms about the boy. 

“Father, I have sinned, and I am no more worthy 
to be called thy son,” the penitent man started his 
confession. But his father interrupted him, and 


66 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


turned to the servants. “Fetch a ring for his finger, 
and shoes for his feet,” he commanded, “and bring 
him a cloak that he may clothe himself. Then go, 
and prepare a fatted calf, that we may make merry. 
For this my son was lost, and he has returned 
again!” 


XV 

SHARING THE LAST MEAL 

It had not rained in Israel for many months. 
There was a great famine in the land. The brooks 
and creeks and rivers had nearly all dried up. There 
were no flowers, or gardens, or fields of barley and 
wheat. 

The pastures, too, were scorched by the rays of 
the hot sun. No more did the happy shepherds lead 
their flocks into the sunny fields beside the quiet 
waters, for there were no flocks and herds. 

But there was a prophet in the land of Israel at 
that time, by the name of Elijah. He lived alone by 
a small brook called Cherith. It is said that the 
ravens brought him bread in the morning and meat 
in the evening, and he drank water from the brook. 
But after awhile even the brook dried up, for there 
had been no rain in the land, and the ravens no 
longer brought him food. 

After many days God sent a messenger to Elijah 
telling him to go to a nearby city where he would 
find food to eat and water to drink. When Elijah 
arrived at the gate of the city he saw a woman 
gathering sticks of wood, as if to build a fire. Now 
it happened that she was a widow, and she and her 
only son lived together in a small house just inside 
the city wall. They, too, were suffering for want of 
food and water. They had not had much food to 
eat for a long time. 


67 


68 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


“Good woman,” said Elijah, “I am very thirsty. 
Will you please go and bring me water to drink?” 
Forgetting how faint and hungry she was, the poor 
widow went as fast as she could to get the water. 
Even though Elijah was a stranger to her, she 
wanted to be kind and courteous to him. 

“I am very hungry also,” he said. “Will you 
please bring me food to eat?” But then the woman 
hesitated, and a troubled look came over her face. 

“I have no bread,” she answered, “and there is 
but a handful of meal in the jar and a little oil in 
the jug. I was just ready to make a fire to prepare 
the bread for myself and my son, that we might 
eat it and die.” 

“Fear not,” said Elijah, “our God will provide 
food for us. Make a cake for me first, and after¬ 
ward make cakes for you and your son also.” 

The poor widow did not know how this was 
possible, since there was only enough meal for two 
small cakes. But even so, she was willing to divide 
the last of the meal with a stranger, who was also 
hungry. 

So she went and did as Elijah had asked her, 
making cakes for him and her son and herself, and 
never again throughout the days of the famine did 
they want for food or for water. Because she had 
been kind to a stranger, her own needs had been 
supplied. 

One day while Elijah was still there the widow’s 
only son became very sick. In fact he was so sick 
that he scarcely seemed to breathe. In great dis- 
tress she came to Elijah bearing her son in her arms, 
thinking that he was dead. 

Bitterly the mother cried out to Elijah, “What 


SHARING'THE LAST MEAL 69 

have I to do with thee, 0 thou man of God. Thou 
art come unto me to bring my sin to remembrance, 
and to slay my son.” 

But Elijah answered, “Give me thy son.” And 
he took the boy in his arms and carried him up¬ 
stairs to his own room. 

Then he prayed, “O Jehovah my God, hast thou 
also brought evil upon the widow with whom I 
sojourn. O Jehovah, let this child’s soul come unto 
him again.” 

Jehovah answered Elijah’s prayer. For slowly the 
boy began to breathe stronger and stronger, and he 
opened his eyes, and smiled as if he were glad to see 
his friend Elijah. 

When Elijah came down the stairs from his room, 
carrying the boy in his arms, he presented him to his 
mother alive and well, saying, “See, thy son liveth.” 

The poor widow was so thankful that she fell 
down on the ground before the prophet Elijah, to 
give him thanks, saying, “Now I know that thou 
art the man of God, that the word of Jehovah in 
thy mouth is truth.” 


XVI 

THE PRINCE WHO SOUGHT HAPPINESS 

“Did you see which way he whom they call 
Jesus of Nazareth went?” The question was asked 
of a rug merchant in the market place by a young 
man who had just come hurriedly from the Temple. 
“Rabbi,” came the answer as the merchant bowed 
low, “he has just passed with his disciples,” and he 
pointed toward the east. “It may be that he is 
going to the Sea of Galilee, for they say he often 
goes there to rest and to talk with his followers.” 

Quickly the young man turned his steps toward 
the Sea. As he went, his rapid footsteps stirred up 
clouds of dust. Men and women stepped aside to 
allow him to pass, for they saw his haste, and be¬ 
sides, he was a ruler in the Temple. Usually, to be 
sure, an older man was given this position, for it 
was his task to take care of the service and to ap¬ 
point those who should preach and read the Scrip¬ 
tures. But this young man, because of his noble 
character and great virtue, had been honored when 
he was quite young by being lifted to the coveted 
place of leadership. 

Surely this man can help me,” he was thinking, 
as he hurried on. “All these years since I was a lad 
I have kept the laws and the commandments, but 
some way I am not satisfied. Perhaps the Galilean 
can tell me what more I should do. Would that I 
had talked with him many days ago!” 

He turned a corner, and there, far ahead of him, 
he saw a group of men, moving slowly along, and 
70 


PRINCE WHO SOUGHT HAPPINESS 71 

seeming to be deep in conversation. “That is he!” 
he thought, and his steps grew more rapid. Once 
he saw three or four children run eagerly toward 
the little group of men. Their happy laughter 
floated back to him, as he saw the Master stoop to 
talk with them. “I wonder what he is saying,” he 
thought, and almost jealously he wished that he 
were near enough to hear the conversation. 

Just as he had almost reached the disciples, he 
was delayed by a man whom he had seen come 
limping upon crutches from a house beside the road. 
For a moment he had stood talking with Jesus; the 
Master had made some movement, the ruler could 
not see what; and now the man was coming, jump¬ 
ing and leaping and running along the road. Straight 
toward the young ruler he came. 

“Behold!” he shouted, “the Master has taken 
away my lameness! This is the first time I have 
ever walked as other men. Thanks be unto God!” 
and in his delight he grasped the young man’s 
hand and would hardly let him go. 

At last the ruler reached Jesus and his disciples. 
Forgetting all about his rich garments, the young 
man knelt in the dust of the road before the great 
Teacher. 

“Good Master,” he begged, “tell me what I must 
do to gain greatest happiness.” 

“Why do you call me good, and ask me what to 
do?” Jesus responded. “God is good, and you 
know his commandments. Keep these if you wish 
to live forever: Do not kill, Do not steal, Do not 
bear false witness, Honor your father and your 
mother, Love your neighbor as yourself.” 

“Master,” replied the young man, “I have kept 


72 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


these commandments ever since I was a child. 
What more must I do?” 

Then Jesus looked deep into the ruler’s face. He 
saw there sincerity, honesty of purpose, and a real 
desire to achieve the best things in life, and he 
could not help loving the young man. Then he 
noticed the handsome garments which the ruler 
wore, and the heavy golden ornaments. “I am 
afraid,” Jesus said to himself, “that this young 
man cares more about his money and the recogni¬ 
tion and service he can command because of it, 
than he really cares about serving others. If he 
will only give his wealth in the service of others, he 
will gain the greatest happiness.” 

Then, with a look of great sympathy upon his 
face, for he knew he was asking the young man to 
do the hardest thing in the world, Jesus said: 

“There is only one more thing that you need to 
do. Sell all that you own, your houses and your 
lands and all your great possessions, and then give 
your money to the poor. Come then, and follow 
me, and you shall find the greatest happiness in 
serving others.” 

In surprise and perplexity the young man turned 
away, for he had not thought that Jesus would ask 
him to do this thing. He did not know what to 
do. He sincerely wanted to find the greatest hap¬ 
piness, but he had never expected that he would 
have to give up his riches in order to gain it. If 
he had only been asked to build a temple, how 
willingly he would have done it! But to give up 
all that he owned and to become a poor man was 
too hard, and he could not make up his mind to 
do it. 


PRINCE WHO SOUGHT HAPPINESS 73 

He knew that Jesus was still standing there, look¬ 
ing at him with deep compassion. He tried to 
speak to the Master, but no words would come to 
his lips. At last, sadly, with hanging head, and 
shoulders drooping in dejection, he turned away. 
As he started slowly back through the dusty road, 
he could feel the Master’s eyes still upon him, 
as he thought of the price he would have to pay 
for the greatest happiness, and we may hope that 
he breathed to himself, “Truly hath the Master 
spoken,” as the new hope came to him. “I shall 
pray unceasingly for the strength to do as he com¬ 
manded.” 


XVII 


THREE MIGHTY MEN OF VALOR 

David was king over Israel, and greatly beloved 
by his people. In his army were thirty men who 
had done such great deeds that David chose them 
as his bodyguard. He made them his close friends. 

These men could shoot an arrow or hurl a spear 
and hit the mark every time. Some of them had 
dared to fight a whole band of David’s enemies, 
and had killed many and put the rest to flight. 
Mighty men of valor the Bible calls them, and they 
loved their king and were true to him, because he, 
too, was a mighty man of valor. 

It happened that one year, when the harvest was 
ripe, some of David’s enemies marched into the 
fields near his old home. They were ready to steal the 
grain, which belonged to the people of Bethlehem. 

David and his men made up their minds to drive 
the thieves away and protect homes and crops. So 
they went down into the country where the enemy 
was stationed, and made their camp in a cave 
where David lived when, years before, he was 
being hunted by King Saul. 

The days were long and hot, there was little 
water, and often David and his followers must 
have been very thirsty and tired. David longed, too, 
to save his old home and to punish the marauders 
and drive them from the fields where he used to 
play as a boy. 

One day when he was suffering most from thirst 
74 


THREE MIGHTY MEN OF VALOR 


75 


he thought of the old well by the gate of Bethle¬ 
hem. It seemed as if no water could be quite as 
cold and fresh as that water. So David looked at 
the fields, filled with his enemies, that lay between 
his cave and Bethlehem, and wished out loud. “O,” 
he said, “that one would give me water to drink 
of the well of Bethlehem, which is by the gate!” 

Like many of our wishes, he never thought of 
having this one come true. But three of his strong¬ 
est men heard the words of the king; and when 
night came on they girded on their swords, crept 
out of their cave, and at the risk of their lives made 
their way through the enemy to the well. There 
they filled their pitchers with cool water, and stole 
back past the sleeping enemies to their friends. 

When David saw the water, and knew that his 
three mighty men had risked their lives to bring it 
to him, how he must have loved them! That water 
was more precious now than its weight in gold, 
because it meant the love and service of his friends. 
It seemed to David that the water was too precious 
even to drink. It would have been like drinking 
the lives of his three brave knights. 

So he held it up in his hands and prayed, saying, 
“Be it far from me, O God, that I should drink 
this. Shall I drink the blood of the men that went 
in danger of their lives?” Then he poured it upon 
the thirsty ground, trying in this way to give it as 
a sacred gift to God. 

What became of the three mighty men of valor 
we do not know. But we love to tell their story, 
because they were great enough to do, with courage 
and cheer, a hard thing which their king wished 
but did not ask. 


XVIII 


THE GOOD SAMARITAN 

There lived in the city of Jericho a man who 
was so friendly and kind that his neighbors called 
him the “Good Samaritan. ,, One morning the 
Good Samaritan, riding on his patient donkey, 
passed out through the gates of Jericho. They 
were on their way to the great city of Jerusalem, 
which lay about twenty miles distant. Slowly they 
made their way over the ascending plain which led 
to the mountain pass through which they must go. 

As they entered the mountains the road became 
more rugged. At places it clung to the mountain¬ 
side where cliffs rose above the travelers and where 
chasms yawned below. Here and there sharp turns 
were required, and great bowlders jutted out, com¬ 
pletely shutting from view the road ahead. 

The trip over this part of the way was always a 
dangerous one, for robbers frequently lurked in the 
dark places behind the rocks or hid in the caves on 
the mountainside. Many a traveler had been sud¬ 
denly fallen upon and beaten by thieves and his 
money taken from him. Many a victim had been 
stripped of his raiment as well as his purse and left 
to suffer or die by the wayside. 

“I don’t like the kind of company we are apt to 
have,” he thought, “but we will be ready for them 
if they appear.” With this we can imagine that he 
swung around so it would be within easy reach a 
stout cudgel, which he had fastened to the saddle. 

76 


THE GOOD SAMARITAN 


77 


He felt for the well-filled pocketbook, and put it 
in a more safe place. Then he urged the donkey 
into a faster pace. 

Suddenly, at a sharp turn of the road just ahead, 
he caught a glimpse of a man approaching. He 
grasped his club and made ready in case the man 
should prove to be a robber. But no! Greatly to 
his relief, the traveler proved to be only a priest on 
his way to Jericho. The Good Samaritan would 
have given him greeting, but the priest haughtily 
turned away his head and passed by on the other 
side; for the priests did not like the Samaritans. 

At the next bend in the road he met another man, 
but this man was not a robber either. He was a 
Levite coming down from Jerusalem. The Levite, 
like the priest, offered no greeting, but passed by 
with a haughty look. 

One more turn of the rugged road and the Good 
Samaritan would come to the most dangerous spot 
of all. Here the road was full of stones and the 
way was narrow and winding. If he could pass this 
point safely, he would feel that the danger was 
past. It would then be but a few miles to an inn 
where he could find rest and food. 

So he went very carefully as he approached the 
dangerous place. His ears were alert for the slight¬ 
est sound and his eye keen for signs of robbers. 
He thought he heard a cry ahead, and paused to 
listen. But no further sound came and he pro¬ 
ceeded. Almost immediately he came to a place 
where marks on the ground showed that there had 
been a struggle. Then suddenly, a few steps far¬ 
ther along, he was startled and shocked by a grue¬ 
some sight. On the ground lay a man, quite 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


78 

senseless and seemingly dead. His face and body 
were bruised and cut, and blood was running from 
his many wounds. 

The Good Samaritan thought quickly. What 
should he do? The robbers might be near at hand 
waiting for another victim. If he went on as fast 
as he could without stopping, he could escape; if 
he delayed to help the injured man, the thieves 
might rob him of his money, or even take his life. 

He did not hesitate. He slipped off his donkey 
and came to the wounded man, who was now moan¬ 
ing with pain. He knelt beside him and examined 
his wounds. Then he tenderly bound them up, 
pouring in oil and wine to cleanse them and stop 
the pain. After a little he lifted the sufferer onto 
the back of his donkey, and walked beside him, 
supporting him till they came to the inn. There 
they took him in and cared for him. When the 
Good Samaritan was leaving the next day to con¬ 
tinue his journey, he paid the wounded man’s bill, 
telling the innkeeper to let him stay until he was 
well, and that the Good Samaritan would pay what¬ 
ever extra expense there was when he returned. 

Nothing more is told us about the Good Samari¬ 
tan, who went on his way rejoicing after he had 
cared for the man by the wayside. Perhaps he 
himself did not say much about the good deed 
done to the man who had fallen among the robbers, 
but Jesus heard of it from some one. This is the 
way Jesus told the story: 

A certain man was going down from Jeru¬ 
salem to Jericho; and he fell among robbers, 
which both stripped him and beat him, and 


THE GOOD SAMARITAN 


79 


departed, leaving him half dead. And by 
chance a certain priest was going down that 
way: and when he saw him, he passed by on 
the other side. And in like m ann er a Levite 
also, when he came to the place, and he saw 
him, passed by on the other side. But a cer¬ 
tain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where 
he was: and when he saw him, he was moved 
with compassion, and came to him, and bound 
up his wounds, pouring on them oil and wine; 
and he set him on his own beast, and brought 
him to an inn, and took care of him. And on 
the morrow he took out two pence, and gave 
them to the host, and said, “Take care of him; 
and whatsoever thou spendest more, I, when I 
come back again, will repay thee.” (Luke io. 
30 - 35 -) 


XIX 


FOUR KNIGHTS OF HEROIC SERVICE 

So many people came to Peters house that it 
was soon filled to overflowing. When there was no 
longer any room inside they gathered about the 
door, and then filled the yard in front of the house. 
They kept on coming and coming, bringing with 
them their sick friends. They were all trying to 
get near Jesus, who was a guest in Peter’s home 
that day. 

There lived in Capernaum at that time a very 
helpless man. He was paralyzed so that he could 
not walk. It may be that he could not even talk. 
He had to lie on his bed day after day and was not 
able to help himself. His friends had to wait on 
him and do everything for him. 

When they heard that Jesus was in Peter’s house, 
they began to wonder if he could not do something 
for this poor, crippled man. It was not long before 
they were on their way to Jesus, carrying the pal¬ 
sied man in a strong blanket. It was hard work, 
but they were glad to do a good turn for their friend. 

When they reached the house there were so many 
people about the door and in the yard that they 
could not get near where Jesus was. It seemed im¬ 
possible to reach Jesus, so great was the throng 
about the house. 

But they were determined to see him. They kept 
right on and made their way through the crowd to 
a side stairway that led up to the roof of the little 
one-story house. Up the stairway they climbed, 
80 


FOUR KNIGHTS OF HEROIC SERVICE 81 


carefully bearing the sick man. When they reached 
the top, they laid him down on the flat roof. 

Then they did a strange thing. They began to tear 
a hole in the roof above where Jesus was standing. 
They worked away while Jesus was talking to the 
people below. Soon they had the hole large enough. 

They tied ropes to the corners of the blanket on 
which the sick man lay, and then they carefully 
picked him up and began to let him down through 
the hole in the roof! 

Great was the surprise of the people below when 
they saw the strong arms of these four men gently 
letting the sick man down into the room where 
Jesus was. 

Jesus stopped speaking. He turned and looked 
at the man, then he looked up at his friends. He 
saw at once that the four men believed that he 
could heal their friend. Jesus saw that the sick 
man had done things that were wrong, and wished 
very much to be forgiven as well as healed. 

Jesus then said to him, “My son, your sins are 
forgiven.” After he had spoken to the people, he 
turned to the young man and said, “Rise, I tell 
you, take up your blanket and go home.” 

The people were astonished at what happened. 
For right before their eyes the palsied man arose 
and took up his blanket. They made way for him 
and he walked out of Peter's house a new man. 
He was now well and strong. 

He had to be carried to Jesus by his faithful 
friends, now he was able to walk home without any 
help. How glad his four friends must have been 
for the part they had. How thankful the young 
man was for his four friends. 


XX 


NEHEMIAH AND HIS COUNTRY 

Long years ago the King of Persia with a mighty 
army captured the Holy City, Jerusalem. The 
great stone wall was broken down and the strong 
wooden gates were burned. Homes were laid in 
ruin and people had to fear for safety. Many of 
them were taken captive back to the land of Persia. 

Among the captives was a young man, Nehemiah, 
who found such favor in the eyes of the king that 
he was made one of the king’s cup-bearers. Ne¬ 
hemiah delighted in his new duties and would have 
been quite happy and secure in the king’s court 
had not his brother come from Jerusalem to visit 
him, bringing sad news. 

“Jerusalem, the Holy City, lies in ruin,” he said. 
“Our people are in great distress. The wall has 
never been repaired, nor the gates rebuilt. Our 
homes are destroyed. Our enemies disturb us and 
give us no peace. Even robbers lurk around in the 
ruins and wild animals prowl through the streets.” 

This news filled Nehemiah with such sorrow that 
he wept. He prayed to Jehovah to send help and 
deliverance to his people and longed to go back to 
Jerusalem that he might help to rebuild the Holy 
City. 

One day when he felt that he could no longer 
stay away from his beloved people, he went before 
the presence of the king and said, “O king, if it 
% 82 


NEHEMIAH AND HIS COUNTRY 83 

please thee, let thy servant return to Jerusalem, 
that I may rebuild the city where my forefathers 
lived. My people are in great distress. They suffer 
hunger and hardship. There is no one to help 
them. O king, if I have found favor in thy sight, 
may it please thee to send me back to my people.” 

And the king answered, “Thou mayest go, O 
faithful servant, and for thy journey will I give 
unto thee money and soldiers. I pray thee return 
when thou hast finished thy work.” 

It was with a glad heart that Nehemiah, with 
his company of officers and horsemen, set out on 
the journey to Jerusalem. For many days they 
traveled before they finally reached the Holy City, 
where all Nehemiah’s friends came out to greet 
him. 

Several days passed before Nehemiah told his 
people why he had come. This he kept secret, for 
he first wanted to examine the city and complete 
all of his plans. 

In the Bible it tells us: “After I had been there 
three days, I rose in the night together with a few 
of my followers. I told no one what my God had 
put in my heart to do for Jerusalem, and I had no 
animal with me except the one upon which I rode. 

“I investigated carefully the walls of Jerusalem 
which were broken down and where the city gates 
had been destroyed by fire. I went on to the Foun¬ 
tain Gate and to the King’s Pool, but there was no 
place for the animal on which I rode to pass. 

“I also went up in the night along the Brook 
Kedron and examined the wall; then I turned back 
and entered by the Valley Gate. The rulers did not 
know where I went or what I did, for I had not as 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


yet told my plans to the Jews or to the priests or 
the nobles or to the rulers. 

“Finally I said to them, ‘You see the bad condi¬ 
tion in which we are, how Jerusalem lies in ruins 
and its gates are destroyed by fire. Come, let us 
rebuild the wall of Jerusalem, that we may no 
longer fear our enemies .’ 

“I told them too how my God had kindly cared 
for me and the words which the king had spoken to 
me. They said, ‘Let us go to work and build.’ So 
they entered heartily into the good work.” 

They all solemnly promised to follow their great 
leader, and that very day they began their task. 

They were all eager to have a part in it. Even 
some of the women helped and the boys and girls 
who were old enough did their share. Everyone 
worked together under Nehemiah their leader, some 
on one part of the wall, some on another, and still 
others on the great wooden gates. 

It was not an easy task to put all the stones in 
place. The wall to be built was very high, very 
wide, and very long. It extended all the way around 
the city, but soon the workers began to see it rise 
from the ruins. 

There were enemies living in towns nearby who 
did not like to see the walls of Jerusalem being re¬ 
built. First they made fun of the Jews and said, 
“What are these feeble Jews doing? Will they 
complete the work in a day? Will they recover the 
stones from the heaps of rubbish even after they 
have been destroyed by fire?” 

Nehemiah and his helpers kept right on working. 
Every day they saw the wall grow higher and 
longer. The clinking of the stones and the sound 


NEHEMIAH AND HIS COUNTRY 85 

of the hammer was music to their ears. All the 
time they were thinking how safe and secure their 
homes would be. 

When Nehemiah’s enemies saw that the walls of 
Jerusalem were really being rebuilt, they no longer 
jeered, but became very angry and secretly planned 
to attack the workers with swords and spears and 
other weapons. 

But Nehemiah was not afraid, even though some 
of his workers were. He said: “Do not fear. Re¬ 
member that Jehovah our God is with us. Fight 
for your relatives, your sons, your daughters, your 
wives and your homes.” 

So Nehemiah set apart some of the men as guards, 
who were to watch while the others worked. 

When the enemies heard that Nehemiah and his 
band kept right on working, with their swords and 
spears where they could reach them, they were 
afraid to attack them. 

It took just fifty-two days to finish the wall, and 
to repair the gates, and Nehemiah said, “When our 
enemies heard that the walls of the city had been 
rebuilt all the surrounding nations were afraid, for 
they knew that this work had been done with the 
help of our God.” 

And when the work was finished, the Jews held 
a great feast and all the people rejoiced that their 
homes were once more safe. They gave thanks to 
Jehovah, their God who had helped them, and had 
sent unto them Nehemiah, to be their leader. 


XXI 


ELISHA AND A GREAT GENERAL 

Naaman, captain of the hosts of Syria’s army, 
was a great man and much honored because he had 
won many victories for his master. But Naaman 
was very sorrowful; for he had become a leper, and 
for his dreadful disease the doctors could find no 
cure. 

Now there had been brought captive by the 
Syrians, from the land of Israel, a little Hebrew 
maid who waited on Naaman’s wife. 

This maid was much distressed when she saw how 
sorrowful were Naaman and all his friends, because 
he had a disease which could not be cured. She told 
her mistress that there lived a prophet in Samaria 
who would be able to cure her master of his leprosy. 

When the King of Syria heard of this he said, “I 
will send a letter unto the King of Israel. I will 
have Naaman bring to him rich presents of gold 
and silver and changes of raiment. I will ask him 
to cure Naaman of his leprosy.” 

So Naaman departed to journey to the King of 
Israel, and he took with him ten talents of silver 
and six thousand pieces of gold, and ten changes 
of raiment. 

When the King of Israel had read the letter which 
Naaman brought to him, he was much disturbed, 
and rent his clothes. “Am I able to kill and make 
alive, that this man doth send unto me to recover 
86 


ELISHA AND A GREAT GENERAL 87 

his servant of his leprosy?” asked the king. “None 
can cure of the leprosy, and behold the King of 
Syria but seeketh a quarrel against me.” 

Now Elisha, a prophet of God, heard how Naaman 
had come to the King of Israel, and how the king 
was unable to cure him. 

“Wherefore hast thou rent thy clothes, and why 
art thou troubled?” said Elisha. “Let now this 
man come to me and he shall know that there is a 
prophet in Israel.” 

So Naaman came to Elisha with his horses and 
his chariots, and stood at the door of Elisha, desiring 
to be cured of his leprosy. 

Elisha sent a messenger to him saying, “Go and 
wash in the Jordan seven times, and thy flesh shall 
come to thee, and thou shalt be clean.” 

But Naaman was angry, and went away, and 
said, “Behold, I expected that he would come out 
to me and call upon the name of the Lord his God, 
and wave his hand over the place which is sore of 
leprosy, and cure me. Are not the rivers in my 
own country better than the waters of Israel? Why 
then should I make this journey to be scorned?” 
And he turned and went away in anger. 

And his servant came to Naaman and said, “If 
the prophet had bid thee do some great thing, 
would thou not have done it? How much rather, 
then, ought you to obey him when he says unto 
thee, ‘Wash and be clean.’ ” 

So Naaman went down and dipped himself seven 
times in the Jordan as Elisha had commanded him. 
And behold! his flesh became again like the flesh 
of a little child, and he was cured of his leprosy. 
Naaman, when he came up out of the water, said, 


88 KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 

“Behold! Now I know that there is no god in all 
the earth but the God of Israel.” 

Then Naaman offered Elisha a present, because 
he had cured him of his leprosy. But Elisha would 
take no pay for his service. When Naaman had 
urged him, Elisha again refused, and Elisha said 
unto him, “Go in peace,” and sent him back, cured 
of his leprosy, to his own country and people. 


XXII 


THE CHAMPION CHRISTIAN SOLDIER 

The command, “Forward! March!” was given- 
and two hundred soldiers, two hundred spearmen 
and seventy horsemen were on the move. They 
were under the marching orders of the commander 
of the Roman troops at Jerusalem. Caisarea, a city 
sixty miles away, was to be reached in double-quick 
time. 

Among the horsemen there rode a man whom 
the soldiers were guarding and who was not himself 
a soldier. This man was dressed as an ordinary 
citizen. He had gray hair, gray beard, dark piercing 
eyes and a firm but kindly countenance. He was 
small in body, but dignified in appearance, and as 
brave as any soldier that ever lived. 

Paul, for that was his name, bore upon his body 
the scars of severe beatings at the hands of officers, 
rioters, and enemies of many lands. He had traveled 
in many countries, preached in their cities, caused 
thousands of people to become followers of Jesus, 
and founded scores of churches in all parts of Asia 
Minor and Europe. Paul did not fight with spear 
and shield, but he was the champion Christian 
soldier of his day. 

And it was no easy task. “Five times,” he tells 
us, “I received from the Jews thirty-nine lashes. 
Three times I have been beaten with rods. Once I 
was stoned. Three times I have been shipwrecked. 

89 


90 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


I have been adrift at sea for a day and a night. 
I have traveled far and wide. I have been in dangers 
from rivers and robbers, in dangers from my own 
countrymen and from foreigners, in dangers in city 
and desert, in dangers on the sea and among false 
brothers. I have endured toil and hardship. I have 
passed many a sleepless night. I have endured 
hunger and thirst. Many a time have I been with¬ 
out food. I have been cold and ill-clad.” 

And now Paul was under arrest and leaving 
Jerusalem with a heavy bodyguard of Roman 
soldiers. This is the way it had all happened: Two 
days before this he was going into the Temple to 
worship accompanied by several of his friends. 
Some of his enemies were in the Temple and caught 
sight of him. Immediately they cried, “Help! Men 
of Israel, help!” and with that they seized him and 
dragged him out of the Temple. 

A few minutes more and Paul would have been 
killed. As quick as a flash some one sent a message 
to the commander whose office was near the Temple. 
Soldiers rushed in among the rioters and rescued 
Paul from their cruel hands. 

“Who is he and what has he done?” asked the 
commander. Some cried one thing and some 
another. Unable to learn what was the charge 
against Paul, the officer led him away to the sol¬ 
diers’ quarters and placed him under guard. 

Later, the commander learned that a band of 
men had vowed not to eat or sleep until they had 
killed Paul. So with the strong bodyguard of 
Roman soldiers the great Apostle to the Gentiles 
was now out of Jerusalem and beyond the reach of 
his enemies, 


THE CHAMPION CHRISTIAN SOLDIER 91 

Paul was taken to the city of Caesarea, where he 
was called before the court. His enemies came all 
the way from Jerusalem to witness against him; 
but they were false witnesses and each one told a 
different story. So the governor said to Paul, “Are 
you willing to go up to Jerusalem and appear in 
the court before me there?” 

Paul replied, “I am standing before the emperor’s 
court where I ought to be tried, but if there is no 
truth in any of their charges against me, then no 
man has the power to deliver me to them.” 

Then Paul demanded that since he was a Roman 
citizen, the governor should send him to Rome to 
be tried in the emperor’s court. 

“You have appealed to the emperor,” said Festus 
the governor, “to the emperor you shall go.” 

This decision meant a trip of many hundred 
miles across the great Mediterranean Sea, in order 
to reach Rome, then the most noted city in the 
world. 

When the day came to start, an officer by the 
name of Julius was put in charge of Paul and some 
other prisoners who were on the ship. The ship on 
which they sailed stopped at a place called Sidon. 
Years before this Paul had preached at Sidon and 
had founded a church there. Julius was kind to 
Paul and let him go ashore and visit his friends 
while the ship lay in the harbor. 

From Sidon the vessel made its way to Crete, a 
large island out in the middle of the Mediterranean 
Sea about half way to Rome. It was getting late 
in the season and the sea at times was very rough. 
Paul advised the captain to remain in that harbor 
until spring. “Men,” he said, “I see this voyage is 


92 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


going to be attended with great hardship and serious 
loss not only to the cargo and the ship but also to 
our own lives.” 

But the captain would not heed Paul’s advice. 
He weighed anchor and set sail, thinking he could 
reach another harbor not far away where the ship 
could be docked for the winter. 

The day was calm and they were sailing along the 
coast of Crete, when all of a sudden down rushed a 
terrific hurricane and threatened to founder the ship. 
So severe was the storm that the ship could not 
make headway against it. They were then forced 
to haul in the sails and let the boat drift. 

“For many days,” writes Luke, who was a friend 
of Paul’s and who was with him on the journey, 
“neither sun nor stars could be seen, and the storm 
raged heavily, and at last we had to give up all 
hope of being saved.” When they had gone with¬ 
out food for a long time Paul stood up among them 
and said, “Men, you should have listened to me and 
spared yourselves this hardship and loss by refusing 
to set sail from Crete. I bid you cheer up. There 
will be no loss of life, only of the ship. For last 
night an angel of the God I belong to and serve, 
stood before me, saying, 'Have no fear, Paul; you 
must stand before Caesar and God has granted you 
the lives of all your fellow-voyagers.’ Cheer up, 
men! I believe God; I believe it will turn out just 
as I have been told. However, we are to be stranded 
on an island.” 

From this time Paul was looked upon as the 
head officer of the ship. On the fourteenth night 
the sailors saw signs of land. They measured the 
depth of the sea and found it but nineteen fathoms. 


THE CHAMPION CHRISTIAN SOLDIER 93 

Later on in the night they took another sounding 
and found only fifteen fathoms. So they anchored 
the ship, and anxiously waited until morning. 

At daybreak the passengers still despaired of 
their lives. It seemed to them impossible ever to 
reach the land in safety, but Paul spoke words of 
cheer to them. “For fourteen days/’ he said, “you 
have been on the watch all the time, without a 
proper meal. Take some food, then, I beg of you. 
You are going to be saved! Not a hair of your heads 
will perish.” Then he took a loaf of bread, gave 
thanks, and in their presence began to eat. And 
they all took food and were strengthened and 
cheered. 

When it became light enough to see they dis¬ 
covered not far away a large creek with a sandy 
beach. They cut away the anchors, hoisted a sail 
to the breeze and headed for the shore. But before 
they reached their goal the ship struck a reef and 
the prow was jammed fast in the ground, and it 
was not long until the stern was broken to pieces 
by the fury of the waves. 

The captain ordered those who could swim to 
jump overboard first and get to land, while the rest 
were to manage with planks or pieces of wreckage. 
In this way it turned out that the whole company 
got safe to land. What Paul had said came true. 
The ship was beaten to pieces by the waves, but 
not one of the passengers was lost. 

They found that they were stranded on an island 
by the name of Malta. Strange as it may seem, the 
ship which had drifted on the waves for fourteen 
days and nights without a pilot had traveled in a 
straight course for Rome. The natives of the island 


94 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


showed them great kindness, and gave them food, 
clothing, and shelter. 

Paul preached to the islanders and told them 
about Jesus. Many of them had never heard the 
story before and they believed his message and be¬ 
came Christians. 

After three months a ship came by Malta and 
picked up all of the stranded passengers and landed 
them safe in Rome, the place where Paul had long 
desired to come and preach. He was met here by 
a little company of Christians who had heard be¬ 
fore he arrived that he was on the way. When he 
saw them he thanked God and took courage. 

It seems that Paul remained in Rome, practically 
a prisoner, the rest of his life. He was not kept in 
prison but was permitted to live in his own rented 
house, a Roman soldier keeping guard over him. 
For two whole years Paul lived in this house writing 
letters to all the churches which he had founded and 
telling as many people as came to him about Jesus 
the Christ. 

The Bible does not tell us what finally happened 
to Paul. The story of his life ends at this point, but 
it is safe to say that to the end of his life he kept 
on telling the story about Jesus his Master. 

When he finally ended his life’s journey he could 
truthfully say, “I have fought the good fight, I 
have finished the course, I have kept the faith; 
henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of right¬ 
eousness.” 


PART II. CHARACTER STORIES 


I 


THE KNIGHTS OF THE SILVER SHIELD 

There was once a splendid castle in a forest, 
with great stone walls and a high gateway, and 
turrets that rose away above the tallest trees. The 
forest was dark and dangerous, and many cruel 
giants lived in it; but in the castle was a company 
knights, of the country, to help travelers who 
might be in the forest, and to fight with the giants 
whenever they could. 

Each of these knights wore a beautiful suit of 
armor and carried a long spear, while over his helmet 
there floated a great red plume that could be seen 
a long way off by any one in distress. But the most 
wonderful thing about the knights' armor was their 
shields. They were not like those of other knights, 
but had been made by a great magician who had 
lived in the castle many years before. They were 
made of silver, and sometimes shone in the sunlight 
with dazzling brightness; but at other times the 
surface of the shields would be clouded as though 
by a mist, and one could not see his face reflected 
there as he could when they shone brightly. 

Now, when each young knight received his spurs 
and his armor, a new shield was also given him 
from among those that the magician had made; 
and when the shield was new its surface was always 
cloudy and dull. But as the knight began to do 
service against the giants, or went on expeditions 
to help poor travelers in the forest, his shield grew 
97 


98 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


brighter and brighter, so that he could see his face 
reflected in it. But if he proved to be a lazy or 
cowardly knight, and let the giants get the better 
of him, or did not care what became of the travelers, 
then the shield grew more and more cloudy, until 
the knight became ashamed to carry it. 

But this was not all. When any one of the knights 
fought a particularly hard battle and won the 
victory, or when he went on some hard errand for 
the lord of the castle and was successful, not only 
did his silver shield grow brighter, but when one 
looked into the center of it he could see something 
like a golden star shining in its very heart. This 
was the greatest honor that a knight could achieve, 
and the other knights always spoke of such a one 
as having “won his star.” It was usually not till 
he was pretty old and tried as a soldier that he 
could win it. At the time when this story begins, 
the lord of the castle himself was the only one of 
the knights whose shield bore the golden star. 

There came a time when the worst of the giants 
in the forest gathered themselves together to have 
a battle against the knights. They made a camp in 
a dark hollow not far from the castle, and gathered 
all their best warriors together, and all the knights 
made ready to fight them. The windows of the 
castle were closed and barred; the air was full of 
the noise of armor being made ready for use; and 
the knights were so excited that they could scarcely 
rest or eat. 

Now there was a young knight in the castle 
named Sir Roland, who was among those most 
eager for the battle. He was a splendid warrior, 
with eyes that shone like stars whenever there was 


THE KNIGHTS OF THE SILVER SHIELD 99 

anything to do in the way of knightly deeds. And 
although he was still quite young, his shield had 
begun to shine enough to show plainly that he had 
done bravely in some of his errands through the 
forest. This battle, he thought, would be the great 
opportunity of his life. And on the morning of the 
day when they were to go forth to it, and all the 
knights assembled in the great hall of the castle to 
receive the commands of their leaders, Sir Roland 
hoped that he would be put in the most dangerous 
place of all so that he could show what knightly 
stuff he was made of. 

But when the lord of the castle came to him, as 
he went about in full armor giving his commands, 
he said: “One brave knight must stay behind and 
guard the gateway of the castle, and it is you, 
Sir Roland, being one of the youngest, whom I 
have chosen for this.” 

At these words Sir Roland was so disappointed 
that he bit his lip, and closed his helmet over his 
face so that the other knights might not see it. 
For a moment he felt as if he must reply angrily to 
the commander, and tell him that it was not right 
to leave so sturdy a knight behind when he was 
eager to fight. But he struggled against his feeling 
and went quietly to look after his duties at the gate. 
The gateway was high and narrow, and was reached 
from outside by a high, narrow bridge that crossed 
the moat, which surrounded the castle on every 
side. When an enemy approached, the knight on 
guard rang a great bell just inside the gate, and the 
bridge was drawn up against the castle wall so that 
no one could come across the moat. So the giants had 
long ago given up trying to attack the castle itself. 


100 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


To-day the battle was to be in the dark hollow 
in the forest, and it was not likely that there would 
be anything to do at the castle gate except to watch 
it like a common doorkeeper. It was not strange 
that Sir Roland thought some one else might have 
done this. 

Presently all the other knights marched out in 
their flashing armor, their red plumes waving over 
their heads, and their spears in their hands. The 
lord of the castle stopped only to tell Sir Roland to 
keep guard over the gate until they all returned, 
and to let no one enter. Then they went into the 
shadows of the forest and were soon lost to sight. 

Sir Roland stood looking after them long after 
they had gone, thinking how happy he would be if 
he were on the way to battle like them. But after 
a little he put this out of his mind and tried to think 
of pleasanter things. It was a long time before any¬ 
thing happened or any word came from the battle. 

At last Sir Roland saw one of the knights come 
limping down the path to the castle, and he went 
out on the bridge to meet him. Now this knight 
was not a brave one, and he had been frightened 
away as soon as he was wounded. 

“I have been hurt,” he said, “so that I cannot 
fight any more. But I could watch the gate for you 
if you would like to go back in my place.” 

At first Sir Roland's heart leaped with joy at this, 
but then he remembered what the commander had 
told him on going away, and he said: 

“I should like to go, but a knight belongs where 
his commander has put him. My place is here at 
the gate, and I cannot open it even for you. Your 
place is at the battle.” 


THE KNIGHTS OF THE SILVER SHIELD ioi 

The knight was ashamed when he heard this, and 
he presently turned about and went into the forest 
again. 

So Sir Roland kept guard silently for another 
hour. Then there came an old beggar woman down 
the path to the castle and asked Sir Roland if she 
might come in and have some food. He told her 
that no one could enter the castle that day, but 
that he would send a servant out to her with food, 
and that she might sit and rest as long as she would. 

“I have been past the hollow in the forest where 
the battle is going on,” said the old woman, while 
she was waiting for her food. 

“And how do you think it is going?” asked Sir 
Roland. 

“Badly for the knights, I am afraid,” said the 
old woman. “The giants are fighting as they have 
never fought before. I should think you had better 
go and help your friends.” 

“I should like to, indeed,” said Sir Roland. 
“But I am set to guard the gateway of the castle, 
and cannot leave.” 

“One fresh knight would make a great difference 
when they are all weary with fighting,” said the old 
woman. “I should think that, while there are no 
enemies about, you would be much more useful there.” 

“You may well think so,” said Sir Roland, “and 
so may I; but it is neither you nor I that is com¬ 
mander here.” 

“I suppose,” said the old woman, “that you are 
one of the kind of knights who like to keep out of 
fighting. You are lucky to have so good an excuse 
for staying at home.” And she laughed a thin and 
taunting laugh. 


102 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


Then Sir Roland was very angry and thought 
that if it were only a man instead of a woman he 
would show him whether he liked fighting or no. 
But as it was a woman he shut his lips and set his 
teeth hard together, and as the servant came just 
then with the food he had sent for he gave it to the 
old woman quickly, and shut the gate that she 
might not talk to him any more. 

It was not very long before he heard some one 
calling outside. Sir Roland opened the gate, and 
saw standing at the other end of the drawbridge a 
little old man in a long black cloak. “Why are you 
knocking here?” he said. “The castle is closed to¬ 
day.” 

“Are you Sir Roland?” said the little old man. 

“Yes,” said Sir Roland. 

“Then you ought not to be staying here when 
your commander and his knights are having so hard 
a struggle with the giants, and when you have the 
chance to make of yourself the greatest knight in 
this kingdom. Listen to me! I have brought you 
a magic sword.” 

As he said this, the old man drew from under 
his coat a wonderful sword that flashed in the sun¬ 
light as if it were covered with diamonds. “This is 
the sword of all swords,” he said, “and it is for you, 
if you will leave your idling here by the castle gate 
and carry it to the battle. Nothing can stand be¬ 
fore it. When you lift it the giants will fall back, 
your master will be saved, and you will be crowned 
the victorious knight—the one who will soon take 
his commander's place as lord of the castle.” 

Now Sir Roland believed that it was a magician 
who was speaking to him, for it certainly appeared 


THE KNIGHTS OF THE SILVER SHIELD 103 

to be a magic sword. It seemed so wonderful that 
the sword should be brought to him that he reached 
out his hand as though he would take it, and the 
little old man came forward as though he would 
cross the drawbridge into the castle. But as he did 
so it came to Sir Roland’s mind again that the 
bridge and the gateway had been intrusted to him, 
and he called out “No!” to the old man, so that he 
stopped where he was standing. But he waved the 
shining sword in the air again and said, “It is for 
you! Take it, and win the victory!” 

Sir Roland was really afraid that if he looked 
any longer at the sword, or listened to any more 
words of the old man, he would not be able to hold 
himself within the castle. For this reason he struck 
the great bell at the gateway, which was the signal 
for the servants inside to pull in the chains of the 
drawbridge, and instantly they began to pull and 
the drawbridge came up, so that the old man could 
not cross it to enter the castle, nor Sir Roland to 
go out. 

Then, as he looked across the moat, Sir Roland 
saw a wonderful thing. The little old man threw off 
his black cloak, and as he did so he began to grow 
bigger and bigger, until in a minute more he was a 
giant as tall as any in the forest. At first Sir Roland 
could scarcely believe his eyes. Then he realized 
that this must be one of their giant enemies, who 
had changed himself to a little old man through 
some magic power that he might make his way into 
the castle while all the knights were away. Sir 
Roland shuddered to think what might have hap¬ 
pened if he had taken the sword and left the gate 
unguarded. The giant shook his fist across the moat 


104 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


that lay between them, and then, knowing that he 
could do nothing more, he went angrily back into 
the forest. 

Sir Roland now resolved not to open the gate 
again, and to pay attention to no other visitor. But 
it was not long before he heard a sound that made 
him spring forward in joy. It was the bugle of the 
lord of the castle and there came sounding after it 
the bugles of many of the knights that were with 
him, pealing so joyfully that Sir Roland was sure 
they were safe and happy. As they came nearer he 
could hear their shouts of victory. So he gave the 
signal to let down the drawbridge again, and went 
out to meet them. They were dusty and blood¬ 
stained and weary, but they had won the battle 
with the giants; and it had been such a great victory 
that there had never been a happier homecoming. 

Sir Roland greeted them all as they passed in over 
the bridge, and then, when he had closed the gate 
and fastened it, he followed them into the great 
hall of the castle. The lord of the castle took his 
place on the highest seat, with the other knights 
about him, and Sir Roland came forward with the 
key of the gate to give his account of what he had 
done in the place to which the commander had 
appointed him. The lord of the castle bowed to 
him as a sign for him to begin, but just as he opened 
his mouth to speak, one of the knights cried out: 

“The shield! the shield! Sir Roland’s shield!” 

Every one turned and looked at the shield which 
Sir Roland carried on his left arm. He himself 
could see only the top of it, and did not know what 
they could mean. But what they saw was the golden 
star of knighthood, shining brightly from the center 


THE KNIGHTS OF THE SILVER SHIELD 105 

of Sir Roland’s shield. There had never been such 
amazement in the castle before. 

Sir Roland knelt before the lord of the castle to 
receive his commands. He still did not know why 
every one was looking at him so excitedly, and 
wondered if he had in some way done wrong. 

“Speak, Sir Knight,” said the commander, as 
soon as he could find his voice after his surprise, 
“and tell us all that has happened to-day at the 
castle. Have you been attacked? Have any giants 
come hither? Did you fight them alone?” 

“No, my Lord,” said Sir Roland. “Only one 
giant has been here, and he went away silently when 
he found he could not enter.” 

Then he told all that had happened through the 
day. 

When he had finished, the knights all looked at 
one another, but no one spoke a word. Then they 
looked again at Sir Roland’s shield, to make sure 
that their eyes had not deceived them, and there 
the golden star was still shining. 

After a little silence the lord of the castle spoke. 

“Men make mistakes,” he said, “but our silver 
shields are never mistaken. Sir Roland has fought 
and won the hardest battle of all to-day.” 

Then the others all rose and saluted Sir Roland, 
who was the youngest knight that ever carried the 
golden star. 

From Why the Chimes Rang and Other Stories , by Raymond 
MacDonald Alden. Used by permission of the publishers, 
Bobbs-Merrill Co, 


II 


THEODORE ROOSEVELT’S FIGHT FOR 
STRENGTH 

From the days of babyhood, Theodore Roosevelt 
had been in delicate health. He was a victim of 
that dread disease, asthma, but in spite of his con¬ 
stant suffering he had never allowed himself to be 
made an invalid. Often his father took him out at 
night on long drives in search of a breath of fresh 
air, for such was his disease that it often seemed 
that he could not even breathe, and that he must 
strangle. Whenever he was strong enough he took 
an active part in the games of the other children, 
and even at the age of eleven he had begun to be 
very much interested in animals, plants, and insects. 

His father realized that if Theodore was ever to 
become a man of great strength he must do every¬ 
thing possible to make his body strong. So Mr. 
Roosevelt had one of the rooms of their home turned 
into a kind of open-air gymnasium, fully equipped 
with every sort of swing, bar, and seesaw. Many 
were the happy hours which the Roosevelt children 
and their friends spent there. To Theodore, how¬ 
ever, those hours were filled with hard work. 

The days of Theodore Roosevelt’s boyhood sped 
by. Several summers were spent on the Hudson 
River, another in Germany, where the children 
lived in a German family and studied hard on the 
difficult German language. They even traveled in 
Egypt, sailing on the river Nile. On this trip 
106 


ROOSEVELT’S FIGHT FOR STRENGTH 107 

Theodore spent long hours hunting and preserving 
animals and birds for his “Roosevelt Museum.” 

Yet during all these otherwise happy days, 
Theodore still suffered frequently from severe at¬ 
tacks of asthma, even though he was a leader in 
both games and work. In his letters to his father 
and mother, however, if he referred to his illness at 
all it was usually without complaint. He wrote to 
them at great length regarding his hunting, his 
games, his beloved study of natural history, and of 
boxing, which was one of his favorite amusements, 
in spite of the “bloody nose” and “purple eyes” 
which often resulted. 

Never during all these years did he complain, nor 
did he lessen his struggles to build for himself a 
strong, well body. We can imagine him, gritting 
his teeth and throwing back his head, and doggedly 
saying to himself, “I will make my body strong.” 

His hard work was slowly rewarded, for he kept 
growing stronger every day. His parents realized 
how unusual a boy their son Theodore was in the 
strength and power of his character. They did 
everything possible to aid him in his struggle for 
physical health. In the Maine woods he learned, on 
long hunting trips, how to endure the rigors of that 
outdoor life, and little by little he won in his long 
fight against ill health and disease. 

It is hard to believe that when Theodore Roose¬ 
velt, at the age of eighteen, entered Harvard College, 
he was the equal, from the physical standpoint, of 
any man in the university. He was a light-weight 
boxer and a swift runner, and in every way, mentally 
and physically, he was ready to take his place in 
the life of the school. 


108 KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 

In 1909, thirty-three years after he entered 
Harvard, Theodore Roosevelt set sail again for 
Africa. The years since his graduation had been 
filled to the brim, with work on his ranch in Dakota, 
politics, the Cuban war, and as President of the 
United States. Through all those years his fine 
bodily vigor had never failed him, and he had often 
performed deeds of physical endurance which amazed 
his friends. 

Who would have dreamed that the delicate boy 
of many years ago would one day become a powerful 
man? Truly, he had succeeded in making his body 
strong. 

It is very certain that few other lads ever made a 
more determined fight against physical weakness 
nor won a more decided victory. He, to a greater 
extent than any other American, by his victory 
over pain and disease, has shown us what a great 
mind and a strong body can accomplish. 


Ill 

THE GOLDEN SCEPTER 


Now, it came to pass that Ahasuerus, king of 
the Persians, reigned from India even to Ethiopia. 
Great was the power of King Ahasuerus and great 
were his riches. In his palace were white, green, 
and blue hangings, fastened with cords of fine linen 
and purple to silver rings and pillars of marble. 
The beds were of gold and silver upon a pavement 
of red and blue and white and black marble. The 
vessels from which the king drank were of gold, 
and many were the feasts that he gave. 

Now, in the palace there was a certain Hebrew, 
Mordecai, who had been carried away from Jeru¬ 
salem into captivity. He brought up Esther, his 
uncle's daughter, for she had neither father nor 
mother. The maid was fair and beautiful whom 
Mordecai had taken for his own daughter. 

It fell on a day that Esther was brought to the 
king, and she found favor in his sight and he showed 
kindness to her. The king loved Esther above all 
women, so that he set the royal crown upon her 
head and made her queen. 

But the king knew not that Esther was of the 
Hebrews, the daughter of Mordecai, who sat in 
the king's gate. It happened that Mordecai learned 
that two of the king's servants plotted to take the 
life of the king. Mordecai told Esther, and Esther 
warned the king thereof in Mordecai's name. The 
two men were both hanged on a tree and the account 
was written in the book of chronicles of the king. 

109 


no 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


After these things did King Ahasuerus promote 
Hainan, the Agagite, and set him above all the 
princes that were with him. All the king’s servants 
that were in the king’s gate bowed and reverenced 
Haman, for the king had so commanded them. 
But Mordecai bowed not nor did Haman reverence. 

When Haman saw that Mordecai bowed not nor 
did him reverence, then was Haman full of wrath, 
and he scorned to lay hands on Mordecai alone, 
but he planned to destroy all the Hebrews through¬ 
out the whole kingdom of Ahasuerus, even the 
people of Mordecai. 

Haman went in to the king and said to him: 
“There is a certain people scattered abroad in all 
the provinces of your kingdom. Their laws are 
different from your laws. Therefore it is not to 
your profit to suffer them. If it please the king, 
let it be written that they may be destroyed. I 
will pay ten thousand talents of silver to the hands 
of those who have charge of the business.” 

The king took the ring from his hand and gave 
it to Haman, the enemy of the Hebrews. He said, 
“The silver is given to you, the people also, to do 
with them as it seems good to you.” 

Then did Haman send letters by posts into all 
the king’s provinces, to destroy, to kill, and to cause 
to perish all the Hebrews, both young and old, 
little children and women, in one day, even the 
thirteenth day of the twelfth month, and to take 
their spoil as a prey. 

When Mordecai saw all that was done, he rent 
his clothes and put on sackcloth with ashes, and 
went out into the midst of the city and cried with 
a loud and bitter cry. And in every province, wher- 


THE GOLDEN SCEPTER 


ill 


ever the king’s commandment came, there was 
great mourning among the Hebrews, and fasting 
and weeping and wailing; and many lay in sack¬ 
cloth and ashes. 

Esther’s maids came and told her of it. Then was 
the queen exceedingly grieved, and sent word to 
Mordecai to know what it was and why it was. 
Mordecai told all that had happened to him and 
of the king’s decree concerning the Hebrews. He 
sent word again to Esther that she should go in to 
the king to make a request before him for her 
people. 

Esther replied to Mordecai saying, “All the 
king’s servants and the people of the king’s prov¬ 
inces, do know, that whoever, whether man or 
woman, shall come unto the king who is not called, 
there is a law to put him to death, except the king 
shall hold out the golden scepter that he may live. 
I have not been called to come to the king these 
thirty days.” 

Then Mordecai answered Esther: “Think not 
that you shall escape in the king’s house more than 
all the Hebrews, for if you altogether hold your 
peace at this time, then shall deliverance arise for 
the Hebrews from another place, but you and 
your father’s house shall be destroyed. Who knows 
whether you are come to the kingdom for such a 
time as this?” 

Esther sent Mordecai this answer, “Go, gather 
together all the Hebrews and fast you for me, and 
neither eat nor drink three days, night or day. 
I also and my maidens will fast likewise, and so 
will I go in to the king. If I perish, I perish.” 

So Mordecai went his way and did according to 


112 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


all that Esther had commanded him. Now, it 
came to pass on the third day that Esther put on 
her royal apparel and stood in the inner court of 
the king’s house, and the king sat on his royal 
throne. 

When the king saw Esther the queen standing 
in the court, she obtained favor in his sight and he 
held out to her the golden scepter that was in his 
hand. Esther drew near and touched the top of 
the scepter. 

Then the king said to her: “What will you, 
Queen Esther? What is your request? It shall be 
given you even to the half of my kingdom.” 

Esther answered, “If it seem good to the king, 
let the king and Haman come this day to the ban¬ 
quet that I have prepared for him.” 

Then the king said, “Cause Haman to make haste 
that he may do as Esther has said.” So the king 
and Haman came to the banquet which Esther had 
prepared. 

The king said to Esther at the banquet: “What is 
your petition and it shall be granted you? What 
is your request? Even to the half of my kingdom 
it shall be performed.” 

# Esther answered, “If I have found favor in the 
sight of the king, and if it please the king to grant 
my petition and to perform my request, let the 
king and Haman come again to-morrow to the 
banquet that I shall prepare for them.” 

Then went Haman forth that day joyful and 
with a glad heart; but when Haman saw that Mor- 
decai, the Hebrew in the king’s gate, stood not up 
nor moved for him, he was full of indignation against 
Mordecai. 


THE GOLDEN SCEPTER 


ii3 

Hainan told his wife and his friends of all his 
good fortune, saying, “Esther the queen let no man 
come in to the banquet that she had prepared but 
the king and myself; and to-morrow am I invited 
to her also with the king. Yet all this avails me 
nothing as long as I see Mordecai the Hebrew sitting 
at the king’s gate.” 

Then said Hainan’s wife and friends to him, “Let 
a gallows be made fifty cubits high and to-morrow 
speak to the king that Mordecai be hanged thereon. 
Then go you in merrily with the king to the ban¬ 
quet.” The saying pleased Haman well and he 
caused the gallows to be made. 

On that night the king could not sleep and he 
commanded the book of records to be brought and 
they were read to the king. It was found written 
therein that Mordecai had told of two of the king’s 
servants who had sought to kill him. And the 
king said, “What honor and dignity has been done 
to Mordecai for this?” 

The king’s servants said to him, “There has 
nothing been done to Mordecai for this.” 

And the king said, “Who is in the court?” Now 
Haman was come into the court to ask the king 
to hang Mordecai on the gallows that he had pre¬ 
pared. 

The king’s servants said to him, “Behold, Haman 
stands in the court.” 

The king said, “Let him come in.” So Haman 
came in. 

The king said to him, “What shall be done to 
the man whom the king delights to honor?” Now 
Haman thought in his heart, “Who would the king 
delight to honor more than myself?” 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


114 

And Haman answered the king, “For the man 
whom the king delights to honor, let the king’s 
apparel be brought which the king wears and the 
horse that the king rides on and the crown royal 
which is set on his head. And let this apparel and 
horse be delivered to one of the king’s most noble 
princes that they may array the man whom the 
king delights to honor and bring him on horseback 
through the streets of the city and proclaim before 
him, ‘Thus shall it be done to the man whom the 
king delights to honor.’ ” 

Then the king said to Haman, “Make haste and 
take the apparel and the horse as you have said, 
and do even so to Mordecai the Hebrew that sits 
at the king’s gate; let nothing fail of all that you 
have spoken.” 

Then took Haman the apparel and the horse, and 
arrayed Mordecai and brought him on horseback 
through the streets of the city, and proclaimed 
before him, “Thus shall be done to the man whom 
the king delights to honor.” And Mordecai came 
again to the king’s gate, but Haman hastened to 
his house mourning. 

Haman told his friends and his wife all that 
had befallen him. Then said the wise men and 
his wife to him, “If Mordecai be of the Hebrews 
before whom you have begun to fall, you shall 
not prevail against him, but shall surely fall before 
him.” 

While they were yet talking the king’s servants 
came to bring Haman to the banquet that Esther 
had prepared. So the king and Haman came to 
the banquet with Esther the queen. 

And the king said again to Esther: “What is 


THE GOLDEN SCEPTER „ 5 

your petition, Queen Esther? It shall be granted 
you. What is your request? It shall be performed 
even to the half of my kingdom.” 

Then Esther the queen said, “If I have found 
favor in your sight, O king, and if it please the 
king, let my life be given at my petition and the lives 
of my people at my request, for we are sold, I and 
my people, to be destroyed, to be slain, and to 
perish.” 

King . Ahasuerus answered Esther the queen, 
“Who is he and where is he that does presume in 
his heart to do so?” 

Esther said, “The enemy is this wicked Haman.” 
Then Haman was afraid before the king and queen. 

One of the servants said to the king, “Behold, 
the gallows fifty cubits high which Haman has 
made for Mordecai!” 

The king said, “Hang Haman thereon.” So they 
hanged Haman on the gallows which he had pre¬ 
pared for Mordecai. Then was the king’s wrath 
pacified. 

On that day did the king give the house of 
Haman to Esther, the queen. Mordecai came 
before the king because Esther had told what he 
was to her. The king took off his ring which he 
had taken from Haman and gave it to Mordecai. 
Esther set Mordecai over the house of Haman. 

Esther spoke yet again to the king and fell down 
at his feet and besought him with tears to put away 
the mischief of Haman against the Hebrews. The 
king held out his golden scepter to Esther: so Esther 
rose and stood before the king and said, “If it 
please the king and I have found favor in his sight, 
let it be written to reverse the letters devised by 


n6 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


Haman to destroy the Hebrews that are in the 
king’s provinces. How can I endure to see the 
evil that shall come upon my people or how can I 
endure to see the destruction of my kindred?” 

Then King Ahasuerus said to Esther and to 
Mordecai, “Behold, I have given Esther the house 
of Haman, and him they have hanged on the gal¬ 
lows because he laid his hands upon the Hebrews. 
Write you also for the Hebrews, as you like, in the 
king’s name and seal it with the king’s ring, for the 
writing which is written in the king’s name and 
sealed with the king’s ring, may no man reverse.” 

And Mordecai wrote in the king’s name and 
sealed it with the king’s ring, and sent letters by 
posts on horseback, and riders on mules, camels, 
and young dromedaries. 

Mordecai went out from the presence of the king 
in royal apparel of blue and white and with a great 
crown of gold and with a garment of fine linen and 
purple. The Hebrews had light and gladness, and 
joy and honor. 

From The Bible in Graded Story , Vol. Ill, by Clara Belle Baker and 

Edna Dean Baker. The Abingdon Press. Used by permission. 


IV 


THE BOY WHO WAS NOT AFRAID 

Seng had attended the mission school from the 
time he was a little boy in the kindergarten until 
the time of the Boxer War. His mother and father 
were Christians and Seng had no thoughts of being 
anything else himself. 

“The Boxers are fighting the Christians wherever 
they can find them,” his father said to him one day. 
That was when Seng was ten years old. 

“And who are the Boxers?” asked Seng. 

“They are some of our own people who are mak¬ 
ing war against the foreigners and the Christians,” 
replied his father. “They think the foreigners come 
here to do us harm instead of good. They are de¬ 
termined that not one of them shall remain in 
China.” 

“But where will the missionaries go? Will they 
return to their own country?” 

“They will not have the chance, son,” said Seng’s 
father sadly. “The Boxers are cruel. The Chris¬ 
tians can escape upon the promise that they will 
worship the gods; without that promise they are 
killed.” 

“We, too?” gasped Seng. 

“It may be,” replied the father. 

“But if one should just pretend to worship the 
idols, would they let him go if he really was a 
Christian?” Seng asked again. 

“Seng,” said his father quietly, “Christians do 
n 7 


n8 KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 

not lie. They do not need to be afraid of anything 
that men can do to them because it is better to do 
right than be safe.” 

Seng thought about his father’s words many times 
in the next few days. However, nothing was heard 
of any trouble in their village and Seng thought 
that they were to escape. 

One day without warning the Boxers came. From 
house to house they ran as they seized Christians 
in the village. Seng heard the noise and knew with¬ 
out being told what it all meant. 

“Will they take us, father?” he asked. 

“Probably they will, son, but you do not need 
to be afraid.” He had scarcely finished speaking 
when the door burst open, the Boxers entered, and 
Seng saw his father and mother taken away. 

They did not take Seng at first. They thought 
he was a. bright-looking boy and would make a 
good soldier after a while. One of the men looked 
straight at him and said, “You will have to come, 
too, unless you worship the idols.” 

“I do not,” said Seng. “I am a Christian.” 

“Then you will be punished as they are. Come 
along.” 

Just then a 'all, important-looking man came 
along. “What is this?” he asked. 

“Only a stubborn lad who insists that he is a 
Christian,” he was told. 

The officer turned to Seng. 

“Don’t you know that you will be punished if 
you say that?” 

“But it is the truth,” said Seng. 

“You may be killed for saying it,” replied the 
man. 


THE BOY WHO WAS NOT AFRAID 119 

“But it is the truth, anyway,” was the answer. 

“And if I should order you to be killed right 
away?” 

“My father said that Christians don’t need to be 
afraid,” said the boy. 

Then the officer said to the Boxer, “Leave him to 
me,” and taking Seng by the arm, he walked away 
with him. Seng was terribly frightened. At last 
they entered a great house where everything was 
much finer than anything Seng had ever seen. The 
man looked straight at him again. “I shall come 
back soon for you. Will you stay here?” 

Seng was more frightened than he had ever been 
in all his life, but he said, “Yes, I’ll stay.” Probably 
the man had gone to bring soldiers to kill him right 
there; perhaps something more dreadful than he 
had ever heard of was about to happen. The door 
was not fastened and he thought of trying to run 
away, but he remembered his father’s saying, 
“Christians do not need to be afraid,” and he knew 
that it would not be honest to run away. It seemed 
a very long time before the officer returned and he 
was still alone. 

“Why didn’t you try to get away?” the man 
asked. 'j 

“I said I should stay,” was the answer from Seng 
and the man looked at him curiously. He had left 
the door unfastened on purpose to see if Seng would 
not try to escape. 

“Well, I have decided that if you will worship 
idols, as I do, I will let you stay here in my house 
where you will be taken care of as if you were my 
boy; otherwise—well, you know what happens to 
Christians?” 


120 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


“Yes, I know, but I am a Christian and I always 
will be.” 

The man was angry. This was an unusual sort 
of boy. Never had he seen another like him. He 
should have one more chance. At last he said: 

“Yes, you are now, but perhaps after a while you 
will do as I want you to.” 

Seng thought hard for a minute. Then he thought 
of his father and he did not even feel afraid as he 
replied firmly: 

“No, Christians never change, I couldn’t.” 

It seemed hours before the man spoke at last. 

“Seng, you are a strange boy, a brave boy. You 
are to stay with me here, even if you are a Christian, 
now and always.” 

Everyland. Used by permission of the publishers. 


V 


THE GREAT STONE FACE 

One afternoon when the sun was going down, a 
mother and her little boy sat at the door of their 
cottage talking about the Great Stone Face. Now 
the Great Stone Face was a gigantic face against 
the mountain side, sculptured there by nature when 
the mountains were being made. It was so large 
that the arch of the forehead was a hundred feet in 
height. The nose was equally long, and the vast 
lips, could they have spoken, would have rolled 
their thunder tones across the valley. 

This giant face was full of kindness and affection. 
It had a smile that seemed to come from a vast, 
warm heart, full of friendliness and love for every 
person. 

“Mother,” said the boy Ernest, “I wish that the 
Old Man of the Mountain could speak, for he looks 
so kind that his voice must needs be pleasant. If I 
were to see a man with such a face I am sure I should 
love him dearly.” 

“If an old prophecy should come to pass,” an¬ 
swered his mother, “we may see a man some time 
or other, with exactly such a face as that.” And 
then his mother told him a legend which for many 
years had been handed down from generation to 
generation by the people of the valley. The story 
was that at some future day a child should be born 
in this valley who was to become the greatest and 
noblest man of his time, and whose countenance 
121 


122 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


should bear an exact resemblance to the Great 
Stone Face. This man was to come and live in the 
valley and be the ruler of its people. 

“O Mother! Mother!” cried Ernest, clapping his 
hands. “I do hope that I shall live to see this great 
and good man.” 

Ernest never forgot the story that his mother 
told him. He always thought of it when in the eve¬ 
ning he would sit in the door of his log-cottage 
home, looking out upon the Great Stone Face, 
lighted up by the setting sun. Many times did 
Ernest think of the story his mother had told about 
the coming of the great man. For hours Ernest 
would look upon the face, and imagine it to be the 
features of this great personage who was to come 
and rule over the valley. 

One day there came a rumor that startled the 
people of the valley. It was reported that a great 
man who had been born in the valley, and who 
when a youth had left it to seek his fortune in other 
lands, was returning and that he was the great and 
wise man who was to come to them. This man's 
name was Gathergold, and he was to arrive at sun¬ 
set on a certain day to take possession of a splendid 
mansion that had been built for him. 

The evening had come, and a large group of 
people were assembled to welcome the great Mr. 
Gathergold. The rumbling of wheels was heard, 
and there arose a cry, “Here he comes! Here comes 
the great Mr. Gathergold!" 

Ernest, full of excitement, shouted with the rest 
to welcome the coming wise man; but when Mr. 
Gathergold stepped from his carriage, and Ernest 
saw a wrinkled, cruel, and shrewd face, he was 


THE GREAT STONE FACE I23 

much disappointed. He turned toward the Great 
Stone Face, now gilded by the last sunbeams, and 
then he knew that Mr. Gathergold was not the 
great man who was to come to the valley. As 
Ernest stood gazing upon the Great Stone Face, 
the kindly lips seemed to say, “He will come. Fear 
not, Ernest, the man will come.” 

The years went on. Ernest had grown to be a 
man. By this time poor Mr. Gathergold was dead 
and buried, and perhaps forgotten. 

It so happened that a native son of the valley, 
many years before, had enlisted as a soldier, and,’ 
after a great deal of hard fighting, had become an 
illustrious commander. He was known in camps and 
on the battlefield as “Old Blood and Thunder.” 

This war-worn veteran, now infirm with age, and 
weary of a military life, had lately declared his 
purpose of returning to his native valley, there to 
spend the remainder of his days in quiet and rest. 

The inhabitants, his old neighbors and their 
grown-up children, resolved to welcome the re¬ 
nowned warrior with a salute of cannon and a 
public dinner, the more so because it was rumored 
that the likeness of the Great Stone Face had 
actually appeared in the person of General Blood 
and Thunder. 

When Ernest came with the rest to the festival, 
he heard the people exclaiming, “’Tis the very same 
face. Why, it is Old Blood and Thunder himself!” 
And then the crowd gave a great shout, that went 
reverberating for miles among the mountains. 

Ernest looked upon the Great Stone Face, and 
then upon the features of General Blood and 
Thunder. In the old general's visage, Ernest saw 


124 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


the look of stern command, but nothing of kindness, 
love, and gentleness. 

“This is not the man of prophecy,” sighed Ernest 
to himself as he made his way out of the throng, 
“and the world must wait still longer for the coming 
man.” 

More years sped swiftly away. Ernest still dwelt 
in his native valley, and had now become a man of 
middle age. By degrees he had come to be known 
and loved by many people, for he had given many 
hours of his life to helping others, and not a day 
passed but that the world was better because he 
had lived in it. 

When the people’s minds had had time to cool a 
little, they were ready to acknowledge their mistake 
in imagining General Blood and Thunder to resemble 
the kindly face on the mountain side. 

Then there came a day when it was reported 
that the great man had surely come, this time as a 
great statesman. He, like Mr. Gathergold and old 
Blood and Thunder, was a native of the valley; 
but he had left it in his early days and taken up 
the trade of politics. He had been elected to high 
office and had become celebrated throughout the 
land. 

Many of his admirers thought they had dis¬ 
covered a resemblance between him and the Great 
Stone Face. So much struck by this likeness were 
they, indeed, that throughout the country this dis¬ 
tinguished gentleman was known by the name of 
“Old Stony Phiz.” 

When it was known that Old Stony Phiz was re¬ 
turning to the valley, magnificent preparations 
were made to receive him. Among the company 


THE GREAT STONE FACE 


125 


assembled to do him honor was Ernest, who was 
still hoping to see the great and wise man come to 
rule over the valley. 

“Hurrah for the great man! Hurrah for Old 
Stony Phiz! ,, echoed the cry as he approached. 

“Here he is now!” cried those who stood nearest 
to Ernest. “There! There! Look at Old Stony 
Phiz and then at the Old Man of the Mountain, and 
see if they are not as like as twin brothers!” 

“Is he not the very picture of your Old Man of 
the Mountain?” said Ernest’s neighbor, turning to 
him. 

“No,” said Ernest bluntly, “I see little or no like¬ 
ness,” and again Ernest turned away disappointed. 

As Ernest turned to look upon the Great Stone 
Face, he seemed to hear a voice saying, “Lo, here I 
am, Ernest. I have waited longer than thou and 
am not yet weary. Fear not, the man will yet 
come.” 

Now while the years were passing there had 
come a poet to the earth. The songs of this poet 
had found their way to Ernest, who was now grow¬ 
ing old. He read the beautiful poems each evening 
after he had finished his toil, as he sat upon the 
bench before his cottage door. At intervals he 
would look upon the Great Stone Face, and his 
soul thrilled within him. “Majestic friend,” he 
murmured, addressing the Great Stone Face, “is 
not this poet worthy to resemble thee?” The Face 
on the mountain side seemed to smile but answered 
not a word. 

It came to pass that on a summer day the poet 
came to visit the valley. Even before he had reached 
the valley, he heard of Ernest and his many deeds 


126 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


of kindness and helpfulness to friends and neigh¬ 
bors. He resolved, therefore, to visit Ernest, and 
upon his arrival inquired at once where Ernest 
dwelt. 

Approaching the door, he there found the now 
venerable Ernest, holding in his hand a volume of 
poems, which at times he read, and then with a 
finger between the leaves, looked lovingly at the 
Great Stone Face. 

The poet sat on the bench beside him, and he 
and Ernest talked together. As Ernest listened to 
the poet, he imagined that the Great Stone Face 
was bending forward to listen too. 

While they talked together, the poet noticed a 
sad look upon Ernest’s face. “Wherefore are you 
sad?” inquired the poet. 

“Because,” replied Ernest, “all through my life 
I have awaited the fulfillment of a prophecy, and 
when I read these poems I hoped that it might be 
fulfilled in you, and that you might be the great 
man who was to come to our valley.” 

“Once more you must be disappointed,” answered 
the poet, “for I am not worthy to represent the man 
typified by yonder face on the mountain side.” 

“And why?” asked Ernest, as he pointed to the 
volume. “These words are beautiful and the 
thoughts are true.” 

Alas,” said the poet, “but my life has not 
matched my thoughts and my words.” The poet 
spoke sadly and his eyes were dimmed with tears. 
So likewise were those of Ernest. 

Now it had long been the custom of Ernest, at 
the hour of sunset, to address his friends and neigh¬ 
bors as they assembled on the hillside in the open 


THE GREAT STONE FACE 


127 


air. He and the poet, arm in arm, still talking to¬ 
gether as they went, now proceeded to the spot. 
Ernest took his place among the rocks which made 
for him a natural pulpit. He began to speak, giving 
to the people what was in his heart and mind. 

The poet, as he listened, felt that the life and 
character of Ernest were more beautiful than any 
poetry he had ever written. His eyes were bright 
with tears as he gazed reverently upon Ernest’s 
face. He said within himself, “Surely here is a 
prophet and a sage.” 

At that moment, as Ernest was about to utter 
some beautiful thoughts, his face took on a sudden 
grandeur of expression. The poet, looking from 
Ernest to the Great Stone Face on the mountain 
side, was suddenly struck by the resemblance be¬ 
tween the two. 

“Behold! Behold!” he cried, throwing his arms 
aloft, “Ernest is himself the likeness of the Great 
Stone Face.” 

Then all the people looked, and saw that what 
the poet said was true. The prophecy was fulfilled. 
The great man had come to the valley. Ernest 
himself, by his good deeds and kindly life, had be¬ 
come the great man of the valley. 

Adapted from the story by Nathaniel Hawthorne. 


VI 


THE BOY WHO GAVE A CUP OF 
COLD WATER 

In the northern quarter of the village of 
Nazareth stood the humble home of Joseph the 
carpenter. Fragrant vines clambered over its rough 
stone walls and touched the flat roof, while palms 
stood as sentinels to guard against the heat of the 
noonday sun. 

At the rear of the home was a room used by 
Joseph as a shop. Here on the afternoon of a sum¬ 
mer day he and the youthful Jesus worked busily, 
hewing and smoothing a timber to be used in the 
repair of a house on the opposite side of the vil¬ 
lage. When they had finished the task the boy 
stood for a moment gazing away over the jagged 
purple hills which, to the westward, half encircled 
the village nestling at their feet. 

“Come, son,” said Joseph, “we must hasten if 
we would complete our work on Neighbor Ben¬ 
jamin’s house, for the shadows are already begin¬ 
ning to lengthen.” 

Grasping the finished timber, the sturdy youth 
swung it lightly to his shoulder. Joseph gathered 
up the needed tools, and with this they moved 
briskly down the narrow street until they came 
to the house where they were mending the roof. 

The timber was soon made fast, and they be¬ 
gan to replace the tiles which had been removed. 

128 


A CUP OF COLD WATER 129 

Suddenly the boy, whose ears were keener than 
those of Joseph, paused. “Listen!” he said. “Did 
you hear a trumpet sound! And now the tramp 
of horses’ feet? See! The people are running out 
from their houses. They are hastening toward the 
village well. What can be the matter? Shall we 
not go?” 

^ strange,” answered Joseph in his quiet 

voice. “Let us see this last tile in place and then 
we too will pass by the well and learn what strange 
visitors have honored our village with their pres¬ 
ence.” 

Quickly their work was finished, and Joseph, 
with Jesus at his side, set out for the well, where 
now they could see a large crowd of people gathered. 

As they approached the place they took in the 
scene. A band of soldiers, armed with spears and 
wearing the helmets of the Romans, had arrived 
at the well and were quenching their thirst from 
its sparkling depths. 

The haughty Roman soldiers gave little atten¬ 
tion to the villagers, who encircled their group 
at the well. Having satisfied their own thirst, 
they turned to the comfort of their tired horses. 
Water was drawn and the animals eagerly drank 
great draughts from the stone trough which stood 
by the edge of the well. 

During this interval none of the soldiers had 
noticed or even given a glance toward a figure 
who had immediately become the center of inter¬ 
est to the people of the village. This was a man 
perhaps forty years of age, who was a prisoner of 
the Roman band. Around his neck was riveted 
a collar of brass. To this a thong was tied, the 


130 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


other end of which was attached to the saddle of 
one of the horses. The prisoner’s hands were bound 
behind him. His scanty clothing was in shreds. 
His dark hair was matted with dust and clogged 
with blood which oozed from a wound on his head. 
His feet were bare and were bleeding from the 
sharp rocks over which he had been forced at a 
rapid pace by his heartless captors. Weary to the 
point of exhaustion, and suffering from thirst and 
the pain of his wounds, the prisoner had sunk to 
the ground in a stupor as soon as the band came 
to a halt. 

“Who is he?” “What has he done?” “Will they 
not give him water to drink?” were the whispers 
that ran around the pitying crowd. But none 
dared brave the haughty stare of the leader, as 
with contemptuous eyes he swept the circle about 
him. 

While the excitement was at its height an aged 
rabbi stepped forth from the crowd and gravely 
saluted the one in command. “Your prisoner— 
has he committed a serious crime?” inquired the 
rabbi. 

“Serious enough,” said the leader. “He has 
escaped from the galleys to which he was sentenced 
for life.” 

“But his crime?” pursued the rabbi. 

“That of plotting against the life of a Roman 
citizen,” sternly replied his captor. 

Upon these words the pity of the crowd for the 
prisoner froze. A criminal! 

“So he would take the life of another!” said one. 

“Has he forgotten the command of Jehovah, 
‘Thou shalt not kill’?” spoke a second. 


A CUP OF COLD WATER 131 

Let the wretch take his punishment then,” 
muttered a third. None spoke in kindness, nor 
did any offer the prisoner help or service. 

During this interval he had lain weak and almost 
insensible in the dust. His breath came in sob¬ 
bing sighs, and a deep pallor had spread over his 
face. He expected no mercy and asked for none. 

Then there was a little stir in the crowd. It 
parted at the edge and a young boy stepped from 
the circle. Speaking to no one, he took up a pitcher 
of water from the curb of the well and approached 
the prisoner. Unmindful of the hostile eyes of 
the soldiers, he lifted the head of the prisoner and 
put the water to his lips. “Drink ye of this,” he 
said in a quiet voice. Eagerly the exhausted man 
quaffed, the refreshing water, gratitude shining 
from his eyes. Then, placing his hand on the 
prisoner s head, the boy spoke a simple prayer: 
“The God of our fathers bless and keep thee!” 

“Amen!” responded the group. 

His errand of mercy completed, the boy passed 
out through the crowd, which opened to make 
way for him. Jesus of Nazareth had given a cup 
of cold water to one of the least of his brethren. 

From The Rules of the Game , by Floyd W. Lambertson. The 

Abingdon Press. Used by permission. 


VII 


NOT WHAT WE GIVE, BUT WHAT WE SHARE 

(From “THE VISION OF SIR LAUNFAL”) 

Sir Launfal was one of the youngest of the 
knights, but he was very strong. He was rich, too. 
He had more money than he knew what to do with. 
He lived in a castle and had everything he wanted. 
Sometimes he threw a piece of money to a beggar, 
and when he heard that people were poor he sent 
them a piece of gold. But he never went to see 
them, and he was so rich that he might have given 
away more than he did without knowing the dif¬ 
ference. As for his castle, it was beautiful inside 
with many splendid rooms, but no one ever saw 
them except Sir Launfal’s friends, who were as rich 
as he was and did not care much for the beauty of 
the castle because they saw others like it so often. 

Sir Launfal, like the other knights, decided that 
he would go on a long journey and search for the 
Holy Grail. It was early summer, a good time to 
travel, and he planned to put on his best armor 
and ride on his favorite horse and to start the very 
next morning. 

That night he had a dream. 

In his dream he rode out of the castle with golden 
spurs on his heels and armor that gleamed like gold. 
He felt strong and happy. The birds sang as if 
their throats would burst. The leaves on the trees 
were green and rustling. Only his own castle looked 
cold and stern, as if it waited impatiently for winter. 

132 


NOT WHAT WE GIVE 133 

He was glad to be out of it, riding away to find the 
Grail. 

Just then, a beggar, clothed in dirty rags, lifted 
his hand and begged for help. 

Sir Launfal was disgusted. The beggar was so 
dirty and thin! What business had he to be there 
at all on such a beautiful day? And he was keeping 
Sir Launfal from riding on his journey. 

The knight looked at him scornfully. Then he 
put his hand in his pocket and flung him a piece 
of gold. 

The gold fell in the dust, while the beggar 
straightened his thin shoulders and looked the 
astonished Sir Launfal in the eye. 

“No,” he said, “you gave me that gold because 
you thought you ought to do it, not because you 
care how ill I am, or how hungry. I would rather 
have a poor man give me a crust; I would rather 
have a poor man kind to me and not give me any¬ 
thing at all, than take gold from you who are not 
kind.” 

As the beggar spoke, Sir Launfal shivered. He 
grew colder and colder. The beggar vanished. The 
birds stopped singing. The leaves withered and fell 
from the trees, and as Sir Launfal looked about him 
he saw that it was winter. The ground was covered 
with snow and ice. He himself was changed. His 
horse was gone and his splendid armor and golden 
spurs. He was old; his gray beard helped to keep 
warm his hollow chest. He was tired; he sat down 
to rest beside a frozen brook. He was poor; it 
seemed to him that he had made his long journey 
searching for the Grail and had not found it, that 
he had been gone so long that another knight had 


134 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


taken his place in the castle. And now he was so 
changed that no one knew him; he had been turned 
away from his own door. Now, indeed, he knew 
what it meant to be hungry and ill and lonely, like 
the beggar to whom he had scornfully flung a piece 
of gold. 

As he sat shivering in his ragged clothing, he tried 
to keep warm by thinking of the hot countries 
through which he had traveled on his search for the 
Holy Grail. The best to think of was a burning 
desert. He had almost forgotten how wretched he 
was, when he was startled by a voice asking for help. 
It was the beggar again! 

Sir Launfal did not stop to think how dirty the 
beggar was—he only thought that he must be as 
cold and hungry as himself. He divided the moldy 
crust of bread which was all he had left, and break¬ 
ing the ice at the edge of the brook, gave the beggar 
a drink of cold water in the name of Jesus. For he 
remembered that Jesus gave to the poor. 

It grew light suddenly, and the beggar became 
very beautiful, as if it were Jesus himself. And a 
voice said: 

“All these years you have searched for the 
Holy Grail and have not found it; but the cup 
which you filled at the brook, from which we 
drank together, is just as holy. 

“ ‘The Holy Supper is kept indeed, 

In whatso we share with another’s need; 

Not what we give, but what we share, 

For the gift without the giver is bare; 

Who gives himself with his alms feeds three, 
Himself, his hungering neighbor, and me.’ ” 


NOT WHAT WE GIVE 


135 


Sir Launfal awoke with a start. Yes, he was still 
young and strong. He was lying in his own castle. 
The warm air of summer came in through the 
window. It had been a dream. But he could not 
forget it. He had seen a beggar become Jesus, who 
had spoken to him and told him that the Holy 
Grail was not nearly so important as sharing what 
he had with those who needed it. So Sir Launfal 
hung up his armor and opened his castle gates, and 
if you had gone by in those days you would not 
have thought that the castle looked at all stern, 
because the doors were wide open. People who had 
poor homes went in and enjoyed the beautiful rooms 
as they had never been enjoyed before, and Sir 
Launfal was always there to receive them as he 
would his own friends. And when he heard other 
knights talking of the Holy Grail, and how they 
were intending to spend their lives hunting for it, 
he thought of his dream and said nothing at all. 
From - the poem by James Russell Lowell, “The Vision of Sir 
Launfal," adapted by Frances _M. Dadmun in “Living To¬ 
gether." Used by permission of the publishers, The Beacon Press. 


VIII 


HOW MIRZA KHAN TOLD THE TRUTH 

In Pawlgaun, not far from Siliguri, lived Mirza 
Khan with his father and mother, his brothers and 
sisters. Mirza Khan had been helping the others 
plant paddy all day, except during the two hours at 
noon when the great fierce sun beat down and made 
it impossible to work. Weary with splashing around 
in the mud he was glad when late in the afternoon 
his father said, “ Mirza, go to the tank and drive 
in the buffalo.” 

His father was poor and owned only one buffalo. 
It was Mirza’s task to look after this when it was 
not being used, and early that morning he had 
taken it to the tank for the day. He liked nothing 
better than to drive this great, ungainly beast, and 
when he went to pasture he always went as far as 
he dared. 

“Accha!” he cried eagerly when he heard his 
father’s command, hastily thrust his last bunch of 
rice roots into the mud, washed the soil from his 
hands, and ran out to the road to bring the buffalo. 

He had driven the buffalo out of the tank, leaped 
on its back, and started home swinging his legs 
against the bulky sides when a meettaiwala met 
him. 

“Hello!” cried Mirza. “How many jelabis for a 
pice?” 

“Two,” replied the meettaiwala. 

“You are not selling to a raja; we always get 
136 


HOW MIRZA KHAN TOLD THE TRUTH 137 

three for a pice here,” answered Mirza, preparing 
to drive on. 

“But, my jelabis are very good,” pleaded the 
meettaiwala. 

“So are Mussufur Jung's,” retorted Mirza. “He 
comes almost every day, and everybody likes his.” 

“What is your name?” inquired the meettaiwala. 

“Mirza Khan. My father is waiting for me at 
Pawlgaun. I must go. Give me three jelabis for a 
pice.” 

“Accha! I will give you three jelabis for nothing, 
if you will take a message for me to Balipore.” 

“Balipore is a mile from here. Make it five and 
I will go.” 

“No, I will give you four.” 

“Accha! Wait till I drive the buffalo back to the 
tank.” 

Mirza soon returned. “Find Mohommed Ali, the 
sampwala, and tell him there is a fair to-morrow at 
Chandpore,” said the meettaiwala, and held out 
four jelabis. 

Mirza took the four jelabis and ran as fast as he 
could over the fields to Balipore. He had no dif¬ 
ficulty to find the sampwala, for he was performing 
in an open place near the well and all the village 
was gathered about him. He was in the midst of 
a wonderful trick. He was actually pulling whole 
rupees out of the ears and noses of the bystanders. 
They were real rupees, for he sounded each one on 
a stone as soon as he plucked it out. 

Of course, Mirza could not think of interrupting 
the sampwala till he was finished. But no sooner 
had he ended extracting rupees out of the heads 
of the bystanders than his servant began to dance 


138 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


wildly about the open space playing a gourd and 
making most comical faces while his master pre¬ 
pared for some new trick. This time he made a 
plant grow out of a kuje right before their eyes. 
When this was performed there were other wonders 
in quick succession. Mirza stood with wide eyes 
and open mouth, carried away by the man’s great 
power, and forgot all about the buffalo. 

At last the magician began to pack up and the 
people to disperse. Then Mirza first of all remem¬ 
bered his message, and going up hurriedly to the 
great man he whispered, “There’s to be a fair in 
Chandpore to-morrow.” 

Mohommed Ali looked hastily up and smiled 
kindly on Mirza. “Who sent you?” he asked. 

“A meettaiwala,” replied Mirza. 

“Accha! Here is a piece of sugar cane for you,” 
said the magician, handing him a large thick piece. 

Mirza eagerly grasped the sugar cane, then all at 
once he thought of the buffalo. The sun had set. 
It would be dark in a few moments. What should 
he do? Greatly frightened, he made a hasty salaam 
to Ali and rushed back to the tank as fast as his 
legs would carry him. 

It was dark when he reached the tank, but the 
stars were shining brightly, and the new moon was 
slowly climbing up the sky. But in the tank not a 
buffalo was to be seen. For a moment Mirza’s 
heart sank. Had someone stolen the buffalo? Then 
a more pleasant thought occurred to him. The 
buffalo knew his way home and had gone off with¬ 
out him. 

But now a new terror seized him. What should 
he tell his father when he finally returned home 


HOW MIRZA KHAN TOLD THE TRUTH 139 

without the buffalo, especially if the buffalo had 
gotten there first. “Tell him,” whispered a voice 
in his ear, “tell him you lost your pice, and it took 
you a long time to find it.” 

“It is wrong to tell a lie,” whispered another 
voice quietly. 

“But I can tell you something better,” whispered 
the first voice. “Tell him a wolf chased you all the 
way to Balipore.” 

“Jesus would not tell a lie,” whispered the second 
voice, quietly again. 

“I can tell you something better still,” whispered 
the first voice. “Say you heard a leopard and 
climbed a tree till he had gone away.” 

“But only a coward will tell a lie,” answered the 
second voice. 

“You will be punished if you tell the truth,” said 
the first voice. 

# “You cannot be brave and manly if you tell a 
lie,” said the second. 

So the two voices kept answering back and forth 
all the way home. 

At last Mirza reached the village and stood at 
the door of his home. “Where have you been?” 
asked his father sternly. “The buffalo came home 
alone. Mother has been frightened almost to death 
and has been weeping for an hour. I have been all 
the way to the tank and back. Your brothers are 
searching for you out over the fields now. Where 
have you been?” 

Then Mirza was very sorry for all the trouble 
he had caused, and big tears began running down 
his cheeks. “Father,” said he, “I’m sorry I have 
made everybody so unhappy. It was very wrong of 


140 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


me. I met a meettaiwala on the road and he offered 
me four jelabis to take a message to Balipore. I 
thought it would take only a little while, but when 
I saw the sampwala doing wonderful tricks I forgot 
everything else.” 

“Mirza, I am glad you told the truth, but you 
shall not take the buffalo to the tank again for a 
whole month,” answered his father. 

This was very severe punishment, indeed, for 
Mirza. He would rather have had a whipping. 
But that night when he went to bed he felt braver 
and stronger than he had ever felt in all his life, 
for he had learned to tell the truth. 

By John W. Simmons. 


IX 


THE LEGEND OF SAINT CHRISTOPHER 

There once lived in a far-away land a great 
giant, Offero by name. It was said that he could 
swim through mighty torrents, that he could pull 
forest trees up by their roots, that he could travel 
for miles through burning sands or over snow- 
covered mountains, and not grow weary. 

One day the mighty Offero left his home and 
started out in search of one whom he might serve. 
“For,” said he, “I want for my Master the mightiest 
man in all the world.” 

He traveled for days until finally he came to a 
walled city, where he had heard there ruled a great 
king. When the monarch saw the giant approach¬ 
ing he greeted him gladly, for he saw his strong 
shoulders and his mighty arms, and he knew that 
he would be a faithful servant. 

“I will make you a leader in my army,” said the 
king. “Go forth and fight my enemies and win 
great victories for your Master.” 

Offero fought hard and overcame the enemies of 
the king. When he returned to the palace he 
received great glory and honor. As he came into 
the presence of the king, the mighty monarch arose 
and said, “You have fought well, Offero. I shall 
make you the head of my armies, for with you in 
command I shall never fear any foe.” 

“Not even Satan?” asked a courtier standing by. 
But at the mention of Satan, the monarch's face 
141 




142 KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 

grew pale, for he feared Satan above all other 
foes. 

“Why do you fear Satan, 0 king?” asked Offero. 
“Is he mightier than yourself? I will leave you, 
then, for I would serve the strongest Master in the 
world.” Soon Offero left the presence of the king 
and was on his way in search of Satan, that he 
might serve him. 

Almost before he knew it, Offero found the 
mighty Satan, who was glad to have the great giant 
for one of his servants. As before, Offero served 
his master well, traveling far and wide on his evil 
errands. Satan was greatly pleased at the work of 
Offero and one day he said, “With you to serve me, 
O mighty Offero, I no longer fear the Christ.” 

“The Christ?” cried Offero. “Do you fear the 
Christ? Why do you fear him? Is he more powerful 
than yourself?” 

“O yes, Offero,” answered Satan, “though I have 
always been his enemy, I have never succeeded in 
conquering him. I fear him more than the whole 
world.” 

“I will leave you then, as I left the mighty 
monarch,” said Offero in disgust to Satan, “for I 
could not serve a coward. Let me find the Christ, 
whom even you fear. Him only shall I serve.” 

Over raging torrents and burning deserts traveled 
the mighty Offero. In strange lands he wandered 
for many months and in different cities all over the 
world he searched for the Christ whom he would 
serve, but nowhere could he find him. 

He had grown weary of his quest, so he decided 
to build himself a hut beside a raging river, and 
there he lived, with still a longing in his heart to 


LEGEND OF SAINT CHRISTOPHER 143 

find the Christ that he might serve him. But he 
was not idle, nor was his great strength wasted, for 
he was so strong that he could carry the people on 
his back, as he swam across the river from one side 
to the other. He was always ready to help the 
weary travelers across, no matter how fierce the 
storm, or how dark the night. 

One night as Offero was just about to go to bed, 
he heard a faint voice outside his window. A terrible 
storm was raging. The wind was roaring through 
the trees of the forest and the great waves of the 
river beat against the shore. “Offero, Offero.” 
Again sounded the voice, this time a little stronger, 
“Offero, Offero, won’t you come and carry me 
across the river.” 

Quick as a flash Offero was up and out of his hut, 
carrying his lantern in his hand, but he could find 
no one. He searched the bank, and there, to his 
surprise, he saw a little child, all cold and wet. 

Easily he lifted the small figure of the child to 
his strong shoulder, and with the help of a staff 
made his way through the rushing water. At first 
it was easy, but it seemed to Offero as the wind 
blew harder and as the rain beat against his face, 
and as the waters churned about his feet, that the 
child grew heavier and heavier. He thought that 
he would never reach the other shore. Bravely he 
fought against the waves, but even then he could 
hardly gain headway. The child kept growing 
heavier and heavier, and his arms were so tightly 
clasped about Offero’s neck that he could scarcely 
breathe. At last he reached the shore and caught 
hold of the rocks and grass that he might pull him¬ 
self out of the water. He was so exhausted that he 


144 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


hardly had strength to stand erect on the river’s 
bank and set his burden down. But then he heard 
a voice saying, “Offero, you have served me well. 
From now on you shall be called Christophero, 
which means Christ-bearer, for in serving me you 
are helping to carry the burdens of the whole world.” 

And in the place of the little child, Offero saw the 
shining figure of the Christ, whom he had sought 
and found in deeds of service. 


X 


THE WHITTLER OF CREMONA 

It was sundown and Maytime, and Cremona was 
gay in the wealth of green and gold weather. Rev¬ 
elers in fantastic attire went laughing along the 
promenades, for it was the last day of carnival week, 
and grave men and women had been transformed 
into merry-eyed maskers. Instead of a solemn clerk 
in office or shop there was a jolly shepherd, or per¬ 
haps a dryad, while money lenders, who on other 
days looked stern and forbidding, frisked about as 
goats or clowns or apes. Yes, it was gay in Cremona, 
for it was May and carnival time, and they come 
but once a year. 

Down in a narrow, alleylike street that crept, 
zigzag fashion, toward the Duomo, three boys were 
standing in the shadows. They wore no masks, not 
even a scarlet brow shield to show that they had any 
part in the merriment that was general on the 
boulevards, and the shabbiness of their clothing told 
that they were of Cremona’s poor. Perhaps they 
had crept from the bright-robed throng because of 
their somber attire; perhaps just to talk over a 
question that seemed important, for two of them 
were in earnest conversation, while the third stood 
quietly by, whittling at a pine stick. He was younger 
than the others, with a sensitive face and big, ex¬ 
pressive eyes that were brown and velvety, and his 
companions called him Tonio. 

145 


146 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


“But I tell you, Salvator, every minute lost now 
ir like throwing gold away. People are generous at 
carnival time, and we can get twenty lira to-night 
as easily as one when the fun is over, for a merry 
heart makes an open hand.” 

“Perhaps you are right, Gulio, and I will go. 
Shall we start now?” 

His brother nodded and replied: “Yes, to the 
piazza, in front of the Duomo, where a crowd is 
always passing. You sing, and I will play. Do you 
want to go too, Tonio?” 

Antonio looked up from the stick that was be- 
beginning to take the semblance of a dagger under 
his knife, and turned his velvet eyes full on Gulio. 

“Yes. I’d like to be with you, even if I cannot 
sing.” 

The brothers laughed. 

“You certainly cannot sing,” Gulio remarked. 
“You can do nothing but whittle, which is a pity, 
for that never turns a penny your way. But hurry. 
People are in their merriest mood now.” 

And laughing voices sounding from the streets 
told that he was right. 

Gulio picked up his violin, and, followed by 
Salvator and Antonio, led the way through the alley 
to a street that skirted the Po. Other Cremonese, 
both old and young, moved in the same direction, 
for all wanted to be where the fun was at its height, 
and that was in the great square in front of the 
Duomo. The brothers chatted as they went along, 
for the thought of the money the revelers would 
give had made them light of heart. But Antonio 
said little. Gulio’s remark, that he could do nothing 
but whittle, was still in his mind, and while he knew 


THE WHITTLER OF CREMONA 147 

it to be true, it made him sad. He loved music, yet 
could have no part in making it, for he did not own 
a violin, and when he tried to sing his voice squeaked 
so that the boys laughed. It was hard to be just a 
whittlerwhen his companions could play and sing well. 

Soon they were in front of the great cathedral, 
where a throng continually moved by, the brilliancy 
of the masks and dominoes seeming to vie with the 
hues nature had spread across the sky. For the sun 
had dropped like a ball of flame on the broad 
Lombardian plains beyond the city, and masses of 
purple and maroon clouds were piled along the 
horizon. Now and then a sail fluttered like a white¬ 
winged bird as a pleasure bark moved up or down 
the river, and gold-emblazoned standards and rich 
caparisons on the horses and carriages of great lords 
added color to the scene. There is a saying that all 
nature is glad when Cremona makes merry, and 
the glowing beauty of the evening seemed to prove 
it true. 

Without losing a minute Gulio took his violin 
from its case, and tuning it with skillful fingers, 
began the prelude of a Lombardian folk song. 
Salvator’s voice was sweet and lutelike, and as he 
sang to his brother’s accompaniment, several stopped 
to listen, and dropped coins into the singer’s out¬ 
stretched hand when he finished. 

Antonio kept on with his whittling until it was 
so dark he could not see to work. Then he sat on 
the cathedral steps and waited for the boys. 

A man walked by. He wore neither mask nor 
domino, and seemed to care little about the gaiety. 
But seeing the youthful musicians, he came close 
to where they stood. 


148 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


“That is a pretty song, lad,” he said as Salvator 
finished another ballad. “Would you sing it again 
to please a lonely man’s fancy?” 

He seemed to hear nothing but the music as the 
boy did as he asked, and stood with half-closed 
eyes listening to the fresh young voice that blended 
sweetly with the soft violin accompaniment. Then, 
handing Salvator a coin, he went on down the street, 
without noticing Antonio, who still sat on the steps. 

The boy held the coin up in the waning light and 
gave a cry. 

“Sacre giornol” 1 A gold piece! A gold piece for 
one song.” 

Gulio looked at him dubiously. But when he 
examined the coin, he too exclaimed: “Truly a gold 
piece! But he can well afford it. That is the great 
Amati.” 

Antonio came and looked at the money. He had 
seen very few gold pieces, and thought it wonderful 
that a man should give so much. Then, turning to 
Gulio, he asked, “Who is Amati, and why do you 
call him great?” 

Salvator stared in amazement. 

“You have not heard of Amati?” he asked. 

But before he could answer Gulio interrupted: 
“Of course not. Antonio is just a whittler. He 
knows about knives and woods, but little about 
music. Amati is a violin maker, the greatest in 
Italy, and very, very rich. Yet men say he cares 
for nothing in the world but his work.” 

The brothers were so happy over their good 
fortune that they were not willing to stay in the 
street any longer. They wanted to get home with 


1 “Sacre giorno ”—holy day. 



THE WHITTLER OF CREMONA 


149 


the money, and Antonio had no desire to be there 
alone. It is jolly to watch a throng of merrymakers 
when one has companions, but not pleasant to be 
in the midst of gaiety in which you have no part. 
So he walked with them as far as the bridge across 
the Po, then went on to his own home and crept to 
bed. But he did not sleep, for his brain was afire 
with a thought that had just come into it. He 
could not sing. He could do nothing but whittle, 
and here in his own Cremona was a man who with 
knives and wood made wonderful violins. 

Before dawn next day he was up, and eating a 
piece of bread, took some things he had made with 
his knife, and crept out of the house while his 
parents were still sleeping. Somewhere in the city 
the master violin maker dwelt, and he meant to 
find his home. It was not hard, for all Cremona 
knew of the great Amati, and while the matin bells 
were still ringing Antonio stood at his door. 

The servant growled because he disturbed the 
house so early and scolded him away, so he waited 
in the street until he was sure it was time for work 
to begin, when again he rattled the heavy brass 
knocker. Again the man was about to drive him 
away, when the master, hearing the hireling’s angry 
tones and the boy’s pleading ones, came to the door. 

“I have brought these things for you to see,” 
Antonio answered when questioned. “I cut them 
out with my knife, and want to know if you think 
I can learn to make violins.” 

The great man smiled. 

“What is your name, lad?” 

“Antonio Stradivarius,” came the eager reply. 

“And why do you want to make violins?” 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


150 

The boy’s face was very earnest as he looked 
into the master’s, and the velvet eyes seemed to 
grow darker as he spoke. 

“Because I love music, and cannot make any. 
Salvator and Gulio can both sing and play. You 
heard them last night in the piazza in front of the 
Duomo and gave them the gold piece. I love music 
as much as they, but my voice is squeaky. I can 
do nothing but whittle.” 

The master laid his hand on Antonio’s shoulder. 

“Come into the house and you shall try. The 
song in the heart is all that matters, for there are 
many ways of making music. Some play violins, 
some sing, some paint pictures and make statues, 
while others till the soil and make flowers bloom. 
Each sings a song, and helps to make music for the 
world. If you put your best into it, the song you 
sing with knives and wood will be just as noble as 
the one Salvator and Gulio sing with voice or 
violin.” 

So Antonio Stradivarius, a boy who could not 
sing, became a pupil of the great Amati. Day after 
day he toiled in the workshop. Day after day he 
hewed persistently and patiently, until at last he 
had a violin. It was not done in a week, nor in a 
month, for the master taught him many lessons 
besides those in cutting and shaping and string 
placing, one of which was that a tiny bit well done 
each day is what means great achievement by and 
by. Sometimes he wanted to hurry and work less 
carefully than his teacher advised, but gradually he 
learned that patience is worth more than all things 
else to him who would excel, and when the instru¬ 
ment was finished he felt repaid for the long days 


THE WHITTLER OF CREMONA 


151 

of toil, for the master praised it, and that was a 
wonderful reward. 

Years passed, and he worked on and on. His 
squeaky voice no longer troubled him, for although 
it had not improved, and Gulio and Salvator were 
both singers much loved in Cremona, he had learned 
that Amati’s words were true, and that if there is a 
song in the heart there is always a way of singing 
it. So he put his best into his work, and his violins 
became known all over Italy. Musicians said their 
tone was marvelously sweet and mellow, and 
wondered how it could be. But to Antonio it seemed 
very simple, and he said it was just because he put 
so much love into the making. 

At last Amati died and his pupil took his place 
as the master violin-maker of Italy. Salvator and 
Gulio’s voices had become squeaky, and people no 
longer cared to hear them, but still Antonio kept 
steadily on at his much-loved work, trying to make 
each violin better and more beautiful than the one 
before it. 

That was over two hundred years ago, and now, 
at the mention of Cremona, men think not of the 
fair city beside the Po, whose stately Duomo still 
looks out over the fertile plains of Lombardy, but 
of the world’s greatest violin-maker, Antonio Strad- 
ivarius. There is no civilized land into which his 
instruments have not been taken, for musicians 
prize them more highly than any others, and refuse 
for them sums greater than any of which the boy 
Antonio had ever heard. To own a “Strad” is to be 
rich indeed, and one of the things of which Italy is 
proudest is that it was the land of Antonio Strad- 
jvarius. AH of which goes to show that although 


152 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


one can do nothing but whittle, he may help to 
make music for the world if there is a song in the 
heart, and a noble purpose and patience and per¬ 
sistence keep the hands at work. 


From Boyhood Stories of Famous Men, by Katherine Dunlap 
Cather. Copyright, 1916. Used by permission of the pub¬ 
lishers, The Century Company, New York. 


XI 


THE CHILDREN’S CRUSADE 

The air was drowsy with the perfume of the late 
spring flowers and with the hum of insects. Now and 
then the sound of a bell, tinkling softly, came from 
over the brow of the low hill, where sheep were 
grazing in the pastures. A shepherd lad, his head 
pillowed on the shaggy side of his dog, stirred 
restlessly, and then suddenly sprang to his feet. 
With a word to his dog, and a quick command to 
his sheep he started on his way toward the village. 

The animals did not like being driven away from 
the sweet new grass, for the sun was still high in 
the sky. But the boy was firm, and soon the little 
flock, guarded by the well-trained dog, was being 
herded along the road well on the way to the village. 
The sight of the shepherd lad returning from the 
pastures so early in the day sent many people 
hurrying out to ask the reason. 

“O Stephen,” called a boy who came running out 
of a house, “why art thou back so early? Canst 
thou come with me down to the stream?” 

Then for the first time Stephen, the shepherd 
lad, spoke, and in a soft voice answered his friend’s 
question: 

“Jacques, I have news for thee. This day I have 
had a dream that told me I could be the leader of a 
great Crusade to Jerusalem, the Holy City, to the 
land where lived Jesus Christ, our Lord. Thou 
knowest, Jacques, how many years ago the Holy 
153 


154 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


City fell into the hands of the Turks, and how our 
fathers have gone on long journeys to Palestine 
that they might win back the place where our 
Lord lived. Even now Pope Innocent is trying to 
gather an army to march against Jerusalem. It is 
for us, the children of France, to go forth and serve 
our Lord.” 

As he spoke his voice soared higher and higher 
with feeling. The curious men who were standing 
by either laughed at the boy or grew angry. “What 
foolishness!” they exclaimed. “Can a mere boy lead 
a crusade against the Turks, when strong men have 
failed?” 

In answer Jacques stepped quickly to the side of 
Stephen. “Wilt thou take me, Stephen?” he said. 
“I am ready.” 

“For God and for our Lord,” cried the lads. “To 
the Holy Land! To the Holy Land!” And soon the 
cry was taken up by all the children standing near. 

Days of toil passed quickly, and as Stephen and 
his followers traveled from village to village, more 
children were added to their number. Sometimes, 
when Stephen had been in a city for only a few 
hours, all the children would leave their homes to 
join the Crusade. 

“Shall we allow the Turks to rule over our Holy 
City? Shame on us, if we do!” And like steel 
particles to a magnet, children flocked to the chal¬ 
lenge. Southward they took their course, to the old 
French city of Marseilles. As they went, Stephen 
told them stories of the Saviour in whose service 
they had enlisted—stories of how Jesus had blessed 
the children, of how he had gone about helping 
people and doing deeds of kindness, Always Stephen 


THE CHILDREN’S CRUSADE 


155 


would finish his story with, “Can we fail Him now? 
No, we must serve Him with our best!” Always 
came back the answer, “For Jesus our Lord! On 
to Palestine.” 

As the children’s band marched through the 
fields and villages of France, the sun glistened on 
the slender blood-red crosses which they always 
wore on their breasts. Sometimes a child too weak 
for the long march dropped silently from the ranks. 
But over hill and through valley tramped the 
throng, and over all rang out the Crusaders’ Hymn: 

“Fairest Lord Jesus! Ruler of all nature! 

O thou of God and man the Son! 

Thee will I cherish, Thee will I honor, 

Thee, my soul’s glory, joy, and crown. 

“Fair are the meadows, fairer still the woodlands, 
Robed in the blooming garb of spring; 

Jesus is fairer, Jesus is purer, 

Who makes the woeful heart to sing. 

“Fair is the sunshine, fairer still the moonlight, 

And all the twinkling starry host; 

Jesus shines brighter, Jesus shines purer 
Than all the angels heaven can boast.” 

At last they reached the shores of the blue Medi¬ 
terranean Sea, but they had not been there long 
before a fearful storm arose. The thunder rolled 
and the lightning flashed. A fleet of ships came 
swiftly toward the land, but only a few of them 
could ride safe at anchor. The others were dashed 
against the rocks. 

Still the cry, “On to Jerusalem! For Jesus our 
Lord!” sounded over the waves, but the children’s 


156 KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 

band never reached the Holy City. They were 
taken to Egypt by a band of traders, but when 
word came back to Pope Innocent that the children 
had landed safely in Egypt, he was able to rally a 
great army of men for the Fifth Crusade. “The 
very children/’ he cried in scorn, “have gladly 
fought to conquer the Holy Land.” 

So it was that seven hundred years ago the chil¬ 
dren of France bravely gave their lives to win back 
Jerusalem from the Turks. And now children all 
over this great world are following and serving the 
Christ. Their cry is still, “For God and for our 
Lord!” and with their whole hearts and by their 
service they are showing their love for him. 


XII 


WHERE LOVE IS, THERE GOD IS 

In the city lived Martin, a shoemaker. He lived 
in a basement, in a little room with one window. 
The window looked out on the street. Through the 
window he used to watch the people passing by. 
Although only the feet could be seen, yet by the 
boots Martin knew their owners. He had lived long 
in one place, and few pairs of boots in his district 
had not been in his hands at some time or other. 
He was never out of work because all knew that he 
did his work well and kept his promises. 

He lived all alone in his basement. His wife had 
died and also his children, so he was glad to watch 
the people passing on the street, just for company. 
At night, when his work was done, he would take a 
New Testament in large print from a high shelf 
and read until all the kerosene in his lamp had 
burned out. 

Once it happened that Martin read until late 
into the night. He was reading the Gospel of Luke; 
and he came to the verses: 

“And unto him that smiteth thee on the one 
cheek offer also the other; and him that taketh 
away thy cloak forbid not to take thy coat also. 

“Give to every man that asketh of thee; and 
of him that taketh away thy goods ask them 
not again. 

“And as ye would that men should do to you, 
do ye also to them likewise.” 

i57 


158 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


And then he read about the Pharisee who asked 
Jesus to supper and then was not kind to him. 

Martin took off his spectacles, put them down 
upon the book, and thought to himself: 

“That Pharisee must have been such a man as 
I am. I, too, have thought only of myself, how I 
might have my tea, be warm and comfortable, but 
never to think about my guest. He thought about 
himself, but there was not the least care taken of 
the guest. And who was his guest? The Lord him¬ 
self. If he had come to me, should I have done the 
same way?” 

Martin rested his head upon both his arms, and 
did not notice how he fell fast asleep. 

“Martin!” suddenly seemed to sound in his 
ears. 

Martin started in his sleep: “Who is here?” 

Again he fell into a doze. Suddenly he plainly 
heard: 

“Martin! Ah, Martin! look to-morrow on the 
street. I am coming.” 

Martin awoke, rose from the chair, began to rub 
his eyes. He did not know whether he had heard 
the words in a dream or in reality. He turned down 
the light and went to bed. 

At daybreak next morning, Martin rose, said his 
prayer to God, lighted the stove, put on the soup 
to cook and water to heat, tied on his shoemaker's 
apron, and sat down by the window to work. 

# As he worked, he thought about his dream of the 
night before; and now, when any one passed, he 
bent down so that he could see not only the feet 
but also the face. Presently there came alongside 
of the window an old street-cleaner with a shovel 


WHERE LOVE IS, THERE GOD IS 


159 


in his hands. Martin knew him by his felt boots. 
The old man’s name was Stephen; and a neighbor¬ 
ing merchant, out of charity, gave him a home with 
him. Stephen began to shovel away the snow from 
in front of Martin’s window. Then he stopped 
and leaned his shovel against the wall. He was an 
old, broken-down man; evidently he had not 
strength enough even to shovel snow. Martin said 
to himself: “I will give him some tea. The water 
must be boiling by this time.” He laid down his 
awl, put the hot water on the table, made the tea, 
and tapped with his finger on the glass. Stephen 
turned around and came to the window. Martin 
beckoned to him, and went to open the door. 

“Come in, warm yourself a little,” he said. “You 
must be cold.” 

“May Christ reward you for this! My bones 
ache,” said Stephen. He came in, shook off the 
snow, tried to wipe his feet so as not to soil the 
floor, but staggered. 

“Don’t trouble to wipe your feet. I will clean 
up the snow myself; we are used to such things. 
Come in and sit down,” said Martin. “Drink a 
cup of tea.” 

The two men had their tea together, but Stephen 
noticed that Martin kept looking out on the street. 

“Are you expecting anyone?” he asked. 

Then Martin told him how he had been reading 
about the Pharisee who did not receive Christ with 
honor, and how he had had a dream in which he 
had heard Christ say that he was coming to see 
him that day, and how it had got into his head 
so that he could not think of anything else. Then 
he saw that Stephen’s cup was empty and asked him 


160 KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 

to have some more tea. But Stephen rose and 
shook his head. 

“Thank you, Martin,” he said, “for treating me 
so kindly.” 

“You are welcome; come in again; always glad 
to see a friend,” said Martin. 

A little later, Martin saw a woman pass his win¬ 
dow with a child in her arms. She stopped and stood 
by the wall with her back to the wind, and he saw 
that she was dressed in shabby summer clothes 
and had nothing to wrap the child in. From behind 
the glass he could hear the child crying. He hurried 
to the door and cried, “Here, my good woman!” 
The woman heard him and turned around. 

“Why are you standing in the cold with the 
child? Come into my room where it is warm: you 
can manage it better. Right in this way!” 

The woman was astonished, but she followed 
Martin, who let her into the room and to a chair. 

“There,” he said, “sit down, my good woman, 
nearer to the stove where you can get warm.” 

Then he went to the stove, poured some hot soup 
into a dish and put it on the table. 

“Sit down and eat,” he said to the woman, “and 
I will mind the little one. You see, I once had 
children of my own; I know how to handle them.” 

The woman sat down at the table and ate the 
soup while Martin minded the baby. In the mean¬ 
time she told him her story. Her husband had gone 
to hunt work and she had not heard from him for 
seven months. She had been a cook, but was now 
three months without a place. Now she had nothing 
to eat and had pawned her last shawl so that she 
had no warm clothes. 


WHERE LOVE IS, THERE GOD IS 161 

Martin went to the wall where his own clothes 
hung and succeeded in finding an old coat. He 
gave it to the woman. 

It is a poor thing,” he said, “yet you may put 
it to some use.” 

The woman burst into tears as she took the coat. 

“May God bless you!” she cried. “He must have 
sent me himself to your window. My little child 
would have frozen to death.” 

Martin smiled. “Indeed he must have sent you,” 
he said; and then he remembered his dream of the 
night before—he had forgotten it in his care for the 
woman. He told her of it—how he had heard the 
voice, how Christ had promised to come to see him 
that day. 

“All things are possible,” said the woman. She 
rose, put on the coat, wrapped up her little child in it; 
and as she started to go, she thanked Martin again. 

# “Take this, for Christ’s sake,” said Martin, 
giving her a piece of money. “Get back your 
shawl.” Then he went with her to the door. 

The window grew darker, but Martin still watched 
as he worked. For some time there was nothing 
out of the ordinary. Then an old apple woman 
stopped right in front of his window. Only a few 
apples were left in her basket, and over her shoulder 
she carried a bag full of chips. She must have 
gathered them up in some new building and was 
on her way home. The bag was so heavy that she 
wanted to shift it to the other shoulder. So she 
lowered the bag upon the sidewalk, stood the basket 
with the apples on a little post, and began to shake 
down the splinters in the bag. And while she was 
shaking her bag, a little boy with a torn cap came 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


162 

along, picked up an apple from the basket, and was 
about to run away; but the old woman noticed it 
and caught him by the sleeve. The boy began to 
struggle, but the old woman grasped him with both 
hands, knocked off his cap, and caught him by the 
hair. 

Martin rushed out to the street. “I did not take 
it!” he heard the boy say. “Let me go!” 

“Let him go,” said Martin, taking the boy by 
the arm. “Forgive him for Christ's sake.” 

The old woman let him loose. The boy tried to 
run, but Martin held him back. 

“Ask the little grandmother’s forgiveness,” he 
said, “and don’t you ever do it again. I saw you 
take the apple.” 

With tears in his eyes the boy began to ask 
forgiveness. 

“That’s right; and now, here’s an apple for you.” 
Martin got an apple from the basket, and gave it to 
the boy. “I will pay you for both, little grand¬ 
mother,” he said to the woman. 

The old woman could not understand at first. 
She thought the boy ought to be punished so that 
he would remember it for a whole week. But Martin 
told her that he ought to be forgiven, as he had 
only been thoughtless and was sorry. 

“Of course, it is a childish trick. God be with 
him,” said she, pointing to the boy. 

She was just about to lift the bag to her shoulder 
when the boy ran up and said, “Let me carry it, 
little grandmother; it is on my way.” 

The old woman nodded her head and put the bag 
on the boy’s back. 

Side by side they both passed along the street. 


WHERE LOVE IS, THERE GOD IS 163 

And the old woman had not even allowed Martin 
to pay for the apples. 

Martin stood gazing after them until they dis¬ 
appeared. Then he returned to his room, and as it 
was dark, he put away his work, lighted the lamp, 
and took the Gospesl down from the shelf. He 
intended to open the book at the very place where 
he had yesterday put a piece of leather as a mark, 
but it happened to open at another place; and the 
moment he opened the Testament, he remembered 
last night’s dream. And as soon as he remembered 
it, it seemed as though he heard some one stepping 
about behind him. He looked around and there, in 
the dark corner, it seemed as through people were 
standing: he was at a loss to know who they were. 
And a voice whispered in his ear: 

“Martin, ah, Martin! did you not recognize me?’' 
“Who?” uttered Martin. 

Then he seemed to see Stephen, and the women 
and the child, and the old apple woman with the 
boy. One by one, they stepped out of the dark 
corner, smiled at him, and vanished. 

Martin was glad as he thought of them. He put 
on his spectacles, and began to read the Bible where 
it had happened to open. • On the upper part of the 
page he read: 

“For I was an hungered, and ye gave me 
meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I 
was a stranger, and ye took me in. . . 

And on the lower part of the page he read this: 

“Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of 
the least of these my brethren, ye have done it 
unto me.” 


164 KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 

And Martin understood that his dream did not 
deceive him; that Christ had really visited him 
that day, and that he really received him. 

Adapted from Count Tolstoy, from the translation by Nathan 
Haskell Dole. From Living Together , by Frances M. Dadmun. 
Used by permission of the publishers, The Beacon Press. 


XIII 


RAGGEDY ANDREW 

It all happened far across the sea in that distant 
country called India. The rainy season had come, 
and sometimes it seemed as though the very sea 
itself were being turned upside down over the land. 
Out of doors the drenching rain made life uncom¬ 
fortable, but inside a small house that stood in the 
center of a clearing in the jungle, there was the 
suffering and agony that comes with dangerous 
sickness. 

The woman who lay, almost unconscious from 
pain, upon the low bed, made in the Indian fashion 
only a few inches from the floor, was a doctor who 
had come across thousands of miles to serve the 
Hindu women. And due to overwork and poor living 
conditions, she had become very sick. There she 
lay, alone, her life almost gone, twenty miles from 
any other people. Hours before, her only servant 
had left on the long and dangerous journey to the 
nearest doctor, bearing a scrawled note, “Operation 
necessary—come at once.” 

Near the bed, a tiny white dog sat on guard. 
He was one of those long-haired little fellows, a 
kind of poodle, sometimes spoken of jokingly as a 
“dish-mop.’’ But a very intelligent dish-mop he 
was. Occasionally he left his post to move nearer 
his mistress and lick her hand, and always a quiver 
of relief passed over her suffering-worn face at his 
touch. 


i6 5 


166 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


For three years now Raggedy Andrew, called 
“Raggs” for short, had been the doctor’s companion. 
She had found him on one of her trips to a large 
Indian city, and a sorry little creature he had been! 
But good care and tenderness had transformed the 
little beast into a living bundle of life and affection 
for his mistress. 

An hour had passed with no movement from the 
unconscious form on the bed. “Raggs” had not once 
given up his post beside his mistress. Suddenly, 
his floppy ears gave a quick, jerky movement, his 
black eyes seemed turned to staring black beads. 
He gave an agonized bark, and then another—short 
and frenzied. There, on the floor, not seven feet 
away, glistened the coils and the large flat head of 
a cobra! Slowly, but surely, it was moving forward, 
nearer the woman lying on the bed, its eyes fixed 
upon the beady eyes of “Raggs.” 

The frightened yelping of the dog shocked the 
woman to consciousness. Weakly she moved her 
head, until she could see the poodle, making quick 
leaps forward, each jump accompanied by a short, 
fierce bark. Too weak to lift her head, she could 
only lie there, wondering, and noticing that with 
each leap “Raggs” was being forced to retreat, 
nearer to her bed. 

At last, he was but about two feet from her face, 
and then she saw the sinister flat head of the cobra! 

For hours, the doctor lay unconscious, but at last 
she opened her eyes. There, sitting very near her, 
was the familiar form of “Raggs,” tense watchful¬ 
ness in every part of his body. Weakly the woman 
moved her head, and the motion brought her servant 
to her side. 


RAGGEDY ANDREW 


167 

“Oh, Miss Sahib,” he said, “you are better?” 
He forced a bit of liquid within her lips, and watched 
with joy as a flush of color came over his mistress’ 
cheeks. Weakly she tried to speak, and as he bent 
nearer, he caught the words, “Raggs—cobra.” 

“Oh, Miss Sahib,” the servant said, “the man 
doctor and I got here just in time. He shot the 
snake just as it was ready to strike ‘Raggs/ who 
was standing only six inches from your shoulder!” 

And the little “dish-mop,” hearing his name, 
moved quickly to his mistress and licked her hand 
as she weakly tried to pat his head. 


XIV 


THE MERCHANTS AND THE GOLDEN 
BOWL 

Two merchants were crossing a river. On the 
opposite bank lay the city where they were going 
to sell their wares. They were not partners, but they 
agreed to divide the streets of the city between 
them. They also agreed that when one of them 
had gone through all the streets of his division, the 
other might follow and sell what he could, since the 
things they had to sell were not alike. 

One of the merchants could hardly wait for the 
boat to land. He was the first to leap on shore, and 
he plunged at once into the nearest street of his 
division, where he began crying: “Waterpots to 
sell. Waterpots to sell.” 

Presently he came to a house which looked 
promising. It was large and well built, and it seemed 
to him that a family who could afford to live in such 
a house ought to buy a good deal. But it happened 
that the people in this house were poor. They had 
been rich once, to be sure, but now their money was 
gone, and the strong men who had earned it were 
dead. There were left only an old woman and her 
granddaughter, who got their living by working out. 

When the little girl heard the merchant’s voice in 
the street she said, 

“O Grandmother, I do wish I could have some¬ 
thing—a ring, perhaps, which ought not to cost very 
much.” 

168 


MERCHANTS AND GOLDEN BOWL 169 

“We have no money, dear, for anything,” said 
the grandmother, “and what could we give in ex¬ 
change for it?” 

“Here's an old bowl,” said the girl; “it's of no 
use to us. Let us change that for it.” 

The bowl did look very old and useless. It was 
crusted over with dirt which had been hardened in 
the fire and would not wash off. It was so black 
that neither the grandmother nor the little girl 
knew that the bowl had been bought when the 
family was rich, and that it was really made of gold. 

The merchant was invited in and given a seat. 
Then the grandmother showed him the bowl and 
asked if he would exchange it for a ring or some 
other little trinket for the child. 

Now the merchant had handled many bowls, and 
he knew as soon as he lifted it that it was better 
than it looked. To make sure, he turned it over, 
and scratching it on the bottom with a needle, saw 
that it was gold. But he was a mean man, and had 
no intention of paying the grandmother what it 
was worth. Instead, he hoped to get it for nothing. 

“What is the value of this!” he exclaimed. “It 
isn’t worth a cent!” 

He threw it on the floor and left the house, expect¬ 
ing to be called back; but the grandmother took 
him at his word. 

“It is just what I thought, dear,” she said; “it 
is good for nothing. I am sorry about the ring.” 

Later in the day, the second merchant came 
through that street. 

“O Grandmother!” said the girl, “this man looks 
kinder than the other. Let us ask him about the 
bowl.” 



170 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


The merchant was invited in, and examined the 
bowl as the first had done. 

“Why!” he said at once. “This bowl is pure gold. 
It is worth one hundred thousand pieces of money. 
All the money and goods I have with me would 
not pay for it.” 

The astonished grandmother did not know what 
to say at first. Then she told him of the other 
merchant who had said the bowl was worth nothing. 

“It must be your goodness that has turned the 
bowl to gold,” she said. “Do take it and give us 
something or other. We shall be satisfied.” 

At last she persuaded the honest merchant to 
take the bowl, but he insisted upon leaving with 
them everything he had in his bag, keeping only 
the bag itself, his scales, and enough money to pay 
the ferryman. 

After he had gone, the first merchant returned. 
He said that he had changed his mind about the 
bowl and was willing to give them a little for it—a 
ring, perhaps, for the child, if it were not too ex¬ 
pensive. 

“You dishonest man!” cried the grandmother. 
“That was a golden bowl and you knew it, although 
I did not. But now you are too late. Another 
merchant, more honest than you are, has given all 
he had for it.” 

The dishonest merchant did not stop to ask 
questions. He ran as fast as he could go to the river. 

“It should have been my bowl,” he muttered as 
he ran. “I saw it first. I will take it from him if I 
catch him.” 

When he reached the bank, the ferryman and 
the other merchant were already half-way acros§. 


MERCHANTS AND GOLDEN BOWL 171 

“Come back! Come back!” called the angry man 
on shore. 

But the ferryman did not turn; he kept straight 
on. 

The dishonest merchant saw his former com¬ 
panion land on the opposite shore and disappear 
down the road. Through his meanness in telling a 
lie to a poor old woman and a little girl, he had 
lost the golden bowl forever. 

(Adapted from the Jataka.) From Living Together , by Frances 

M. Dadmun. Used by permission of the publishers, The Beacon 

Press. 


XV 


THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER 

One evening long ago, old Philemon and his old 
wife Baucis sat at their cottage door enjoying the 
sunset. They had already eaten their simple supper, 
and intended now to spend a quiet hour or two be¬ 
fore bedtime. But the rude shouts of children and 
the fierce barking of dogs in the village near by 
grew louder and louder, until at last it was hardly 
possible for Baucis and Philemon to hear each other 
speak. 

“I never heard the dogs so loud,” said the good 
old man. 

“Nor the children so rude,” answered his good old 
wife. 

The noise came nearer and nearer until, at the 
foot of the little hill on which their cottage stood, 
they saw two travelers approaching on foot. Close 
behind them came the fierce dogs, snarling at their 
very heels. A little farther off ran a crowd of chil¬ 
dren, who sent up shrill cries and flung stones at 
the two strangers with all their might. 

Both of the travelers were poorly dressed, and 
looked as if they might not have enough money in 
their pockets to pay for a night’s lodging. And 
this, I am afraid, was the reason why the village 
people had allowed their children and dogs to treat 
them so rudely. 

“Come, wife,” said Philemon to Baucis, “let us go 
172 


THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER 


173 

and meet these poor people. They must feel almost 
too discouraged to climb the ^11.^ 

“Do you go and meet them/’ answered Baucis, 
“while I hurry indoors and see if we can get them 
anything for supper. A comfortable bowl of bread 
and milk would do wonders toward raising their 
spirits.” 

So Baucis hastened into the cottage, and Phil¬ 
emon, holding out his hand to the travelers, said 
in the heartiest tone you can imagine, 

“Welcome, strangers! welcome!” 

“Thank you!” replied the younger. “This is 
quite another greeting than we have met with in 
the village. Why do you live in such a bad neigh¬ 
borhood?” 

“I suppose,” said old Philemon, smiling, “that I 
was put here to make up for the impoliteness of my 
neighbors.” 

“Truly, we need it,” said the traveler, laughing. 
“Those children, little rascals, have spattered us 
finely with their mud balls, and one of the curs has 
torn my coat, which was ragged enough already. 
But I hit him over the muzzle with my staff, and 
you must have heard him yelp even as far off as this.” 

By this time Philemon and his two guests had 
reached the cottage door. 

“Friends,” said the old man, ‘*sit down and rest 
yourselves here on this bench. My good wife 
Baucis has gone to see what you can have for supper. 
We are poor folks, but you are welcome to whatever 
we have in the cupboard.” 

While Baucis was getting supper, the travelers 
talked with Philemon. The younger, who said his 
name was Quicksilver, was very amusing and kept 


174 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


Philemon laughing. The older was so kind that 
Philemon wanted to tell him about everything he 
cared for most. 

Baucis had now got supper ready, and coming to 
the door, began to make apologies because there 
was so little. 

“If we had known you were coming,” said she, 
“my good man and myself would have gone without 
a morsel. But I took most of to-day’s milk to make 
cheese, and our last loaf is half eaten.” 

# “Do not trouble yourself,” said the older stranger, 
kindly. “An honest, hearty welcome is better than 
the finest food.” 

“A welcome you shall have,” cried Baucis, “as 
well as a little honey that we happen to have left, 
and a bunch of purple grapes besides.” 

“Why, Mother Baucis, it is a feast!” exclaimed 
Quicksilver, laughing, “an absolute feast! and you 
shall see how bravely I will play my part at it. I 
think I never felt hungrier in my life.” 

^ “Mercy on us!” whispered Baucis to her husband. 
“If the young man has such a terrible appetite, I 
am afraid there will not be half enough for supper.” 

They all went into the cottage. 

As Baucis had said, there was not much for two 
hungry travelers. In the middle of the table was 
part of a brown loaf, with a piece of cheese on one 
side of it and a dish of honeycomb on the other. 
There was a pretty good bunch of grapes for each 
°f # the guests. An earthen pitcher nearly full of 
milk stood at a corner of the table, and when Baucis 
had filled two bowls and set them before the 
strangers, only a little milk remained in the bottom 
of the pitcher. 


THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER 


175 


Poor Baucis kept wishing she might starve for a 
week if only there might be more for her guests; 
but since the supper was so very small, she could 
not help wishing that their appetites were not quite 
so large. They drank all the milk in their bowls at 
once, and then Quicksilver asked for more. 

“Now, my dear people,” answered Baucis, “I am 
so sorry and ashamed! But the truth is, there is 
hardly a drop more milk in the pitcher. 0, husband! 
husband! why didn’t we go without supper?” 

“Why, it is not so bad as that,” cried Quicksilver; 
“there is certainly more milk in the pitcher.” 

And taking the pitcher by the handle, he filled 
both their bowls. B aucis could hardly believe her eyes. 

“What excellent milk!” said Quicksilver, empty¬ 
ing his bowl a second time. “Excuse me, my kind 
hostess, but I must really ask you for a little more.” 

Now Baucis knew that the pitcher was empty 
this time, for she had seen Quicksilver turn it upside 
down, but in order to let him see it, she took up the 
pitcher and pretended to pour milk into his bowl. 
How surprised she was when the milk came out so 
fast that it not only filled the bowl, but was spilled 
on the table! 

“And now a slice of your brown loaf, Mother 
Baucis,” said Quicksilver, “and a little of that 
honey.” 

Baucis cut him a slice, and although the loaf had 
been dry and crusty when she and her husband had 
eaten it, it was now as light and moist as if a few 
hours out of the oven. She could not but think 
that there was something unusual in what had been 
going on. So, after helping her guests to bread and 
honey, and laying a bunch of grapes by each of 


176 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


their plates, she sat down by Philemon and told 
him in a whisper what she had seen. 

Now Philemon thought Baucis had been mis¬ 
taken, especially about the pitcher; so when Quick¬ 
silver asked for yet another bowl of milk, Philemon 
jumped up and took the pitcher himself. He peeped 
in and saw for a certainty that there was not a 
single drop of milk in it. Then, all at once, a little, 
white fountain gushed up from the bottom of the 
pitcher and filled it to the brim with foaming milk. 
It was lucky that Philemon, in his surprise, did not 
drop the miraculous pitcher from his hand. 

“Who are ye, wonder-working strangers?” cried 
he, even more bewildered than his wife had been. 

“Your guests, my good Philemon, and your 
friends,” replied the elder traveler; “give me also 
a bowl of the milk; and may your pitcher never be 
empty for kind Baucis and yourself, any more than 
for the needy traveler.” 

Nor was it. The guests went away the next 
morning, leaving Philemon and Baucis, but the 
pitcher was never empty when it was desirable to 
have it full. Whenever an honest, good-humored, 
and generous guest drank from it, he found it the 
sweetest fluid he had ever tasted, but if a cross and 
disagreeable man happened to sip, he was pretty 
certain to make a wry face and call it a pitcher of 
sour milk. As for Philemon and Baucis, it was a 
joy to them to have such a pitcher, since now they 
could be hospitable to their heart’s content, and no 
poor traveler need ever go from their door thirsty. 
Adapted from Nathaniel Hawthorne. From Living Together f by 
Frances M. Dadmun. Used by permission of the publishers. 
The Beacon Press. 


XVI 


THEY WHO FIND AMERICA 

Away, away through the night flew a little cloud, 
its filmy streamers floating out behind. It flew over 
the tops of the trees and over the rivers and meadows, 
until at last below it there was nothing but tall 
buildings. It brushed against great shadowy office 
buildings, then flew on, waving to the sparkling 
lights that winked and twinkled so roguishly on 
broad, lighted streets. It passed over a great section 
of buildings that looked like square boxes with rows 
and rows of lighted shelves, each shelf divided into 
pigeon-holes. In the shelves lived the people of the 
city, all tucked away at night, each in the little 
section he called his own home. 

Then the cloud flew where the apartments grew 
smaller and darker, and the smaller they grew the 
more people crowded into the corners, and these 
“shelves” were called the tenements of the great 
city. Here the little cloud settled down on a narrow 
iron stairway, a fire escape, at the top floor of one 
of these tenements. A tiny window gave a peep 
into a small room where a light burned dimly. 
There were dozens of aprons, a whole heap of blue 
ones cluttered in a disconsolate heap on the floor. 
Piled high on a table were apron strings, and nearby 
sat a little girl sewing as fast as her fingers could 
fly. She was fastening the strings on to the aprons. 
Beside her sat a little Italian woman sewing also. 
177 


i 7 8 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


Neither had spoken for ever and ever so long. At 
last the mother laid down her work with a sigh and 
looked at the little figure bent over the apron 
strings. “Little Liza, how long and fast you have 
sewed! You must be very tired.” It was hours that 
they had sat there working. 

The mother rose wearily and went to cover more 
closely two children who lay feet to feet on a low 
couch. It was cold in the dimly lighted room. All 
day there had been no coal to put in the little stove. 

“I wonder where it is,” she sighed as she resumed 
her seat, her voice full of weariness. 

“What, Mother?” Liza stopped, too, and stretched 
her stiff little hands. 

“I have thought often that it is lost,” confessed 
the dark little woman. “Surely this is not the 
America we heard of before we came here. It is not 
the land which they told us in Italy, but a country 
of strange, hard ways. There are none who try to 
understand when one asks the way. They brush 
one and go on. They are all hurrying. Even the 
food is not good. I was never troubled over my 
babies in Italy. They grew rosy and fat eating what 
we all ate. But now—poor little Nickie is so thin 
he is like to blow away. Yes, it is a country with 
strange, hard ways,” she repeated sadly. 

“Mother, I wonder if it is we who are lost and not 
America. I think the America we heard of is here 
somewhere—only we have not found it. At the 
Friendly House, you know—” 

She was interrupted by the entrance of Tito. He 
flung his cap on the table where Liza rescued it 
quickly from being entirely lost in the pile of apron 
strings. There was not a spot in the room that was 


THEY WHO FIND AMERICA 179 

not piled high with something—it was such a very 
small room for six people to live in! 

“Well, Tito, where is your father? He never 
comes home any more, ,, wailed the mother. 

“I guess he is afraid to come, for he has no money 
to bring home for you and the children. They have 
no more money to give out at the meetings as they 
did at first. He does not even go to them because 
he cannot understand.” 

“Where is he, then? But why do I ask? I know 
what he is doing. He is with that crowd of men 
who get drink secretly. But what is it that makes 
you seem glad?” she added impatiently. “I know 
you have had nothing to eat, though that you try 
to keep from us. My poor Tito,” she moaned, 
softening, “you were ever a brave lad. What gives 
you courage in this strange land?” 

“I cannot describe it, Mother, but at the meet¬ 
ings of the men I feel that I am not alone in this 
big country. I feel that there are men and boys 
w r ho mean to stand by each other. They will some 
day make things better in the dusty shop, and we 
will have more food and coal in our homes. We may 
even find somewhere something beautiful. I can¬ 
not tell how I feel it, but as I listen and every 
night come to know more of what the strange 
tongues say, I know I was right in coming out of 
the shop.” 

“Then the men did not gather around you and 
tell you to come out as they did your father?” 

“No, I was young and in another room of the 
work. The boss man of my room comes to me and 
offers me more money in the envelope if I do not 
go. I go out from the factory thinking hard, and I 


i8o 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


meet the men so eager, so full of joy that everything 
is settled and they are going to have something to 
do. I ask all about it and I have many answers. 
Some say there will be no more dust from the stone 
we cut to choke the throat, others think it will mean 
more milk for bambinos, others know it will mean 
we can buy shoes and clothes. One man who speaks 
Italian asked me about our family and how long we 
are from the home country. Then I think that this 
must be the America that we heard of where people 
work together.” 

“Oh, we all believed much when we came,” said 
the mother bitterly, “but see how we live!” 

“I know, Mother, but such is the way they all 
talk at the meeting. They asked to-night if there 
were any in great need. I didn’t understand until 
the man next to me explained later, and then they 
had taken all the names. They want to help. I 
should have stayed until the meeting was over, for 
some seem to think more good news will come be¬ 
fore many hours, but I was so tired.” 

“Ah, my poor little boy,” sighed his mother. Tito 
was tall and large for his age, so the factory had 
taken him even though he was a year under the 
youngest working age. 

The baby coughed and cried. The mother hur¬ 
riedly dipped the corner of her handkerchief in some 
sweetened water and ran to put it in the child’s 
mouth. 

“We must get something. There’s nothing left to 
eat and no coal for two days,” whispered Liza to 
her brother. “I have thought of going to the 
Friendly House.” 

“The Friendly House!” exclaimed the mother, re- 


THEY WHO FIND AMERICA 181 

joining them. It is always the Friendly House. 
She comes back and says we must put shining oily 
cloth on the table and eat there, washing it off each 
day, nay, after every meal. Have they nothing 
better to do?” 

“You know I have told you many things. It was 
the music on that Sunday that carried me up the 
stairs, though I was so scared I hardly knew what I 
was doing. You know yourself how much better I 
speak the English since I have learned of them. 
They too speak of things as Tito does. I think they 
are wanting good for everybody,” finished the little 
girl rallying to the defense of the Church House. 
Again the baby cried. The boy, who had flung him¬ 
self on the one bed in the room, pulled himself up 
with a jerk. 

“Come, we must do something. I think I can 
find the way to go to father if Liza will come with 
me. He is always gentle with her.” 

“Go out alone at night with only your young 
brother?” exclaimed the mother, turning to Liza. 

“All the girls do that here, mother. I will be 
back very soon.” Liza smoothed the hair from the 
worn forehead and pressed her young red lips on 
the rough skin, as her mother threw her shawl 
around the child. 

“A strange country indeed!” The tired little 
mother summed up all the puzzled perplexity and 
pain of her mind in the short phrase that she re¬ 
peated dully. “A strange country indeed!” 

“We will yet find America,” called Liza from the 
landing. 

The two children slipped down the five flights of 
dark stairs—the glimmer of their mother’s light, 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


182 

held high for them, grew fainter, then darkness 
swallowed it up completely and they stumbled out 
from the last flight into the street. 

Neither spoke, for each was struggling to be 
brave. The less said, the better, they thought. 

Tito led the way through back alleys and nar¬ 
row streets. High heaps of snow here and there 
had gathered to themselves by a sort of mutual 
attraction tin cans, fruit peelings, odds and ends 
of food and belongings that always collect in such 
places. 

They hurried along, Tito knocking his chapped 
hands together to keep warm. At the corner they 
turned upon a better-lighted street. A lady crossed 
from the opposite side and walked just ahead of 
them. Suddenly she turned, as if she had dropped 
something. The children came to a standstill beside 
her, and Tito stopped quickly, running his hand 
over the ground to pick up anything which might 
have fallen. 

Then everything happened in a flash. She said 
something in a harsh, quick voice, and Tito darted 
away. What she said, Liza could not understand, 
probably Tito did not, but she raised her voice and 
shouted. Two policemen came running around the 
corner. 

What the trouble was, Liza did not know, but 
she ran, her brother ran, the policemen ran shouting 
English that would have challenged anyone to 
understand. As they rounded a dark corner, Liza 
stepped back into a doorway, breathless and pant¬ 
ing. Around the next corner went the others, but 
Tito’s quick feet outdid them and he gained his own 
street with no one in sight. He bounded up the 


THEY WHO FIND AMERICA 183 

stairs, without turning to see the big policeman’s 
figure as it dashed into view at that moment. 

Only a few seconds passed between the boy’s 
swift entrance to his home and the heavy thud of 
the police as they bustled into the wretched tene¬ 
ment and bolted the door behind them. The little 
mother wept hysterically as these representatives 
of the law took possession of her home. The children 
awoke to add their bit to the noise and confusion. 
Tito stood sullen, trying to make out what the men 
were saying. “No! No!” he put in dramatically in 
lulls between their heated words. When they had 
finished searching the room, even the previous lack 
of order was as nothing to the chaos they had created. 

Tito, they took away with them and left the 
frightened woman wringing her hands and wailing 
as only Italian women can. Neighbors peered in, but 
withdrew—the police had been there. 

“Tito, Tito,” moaned the mother, “where have 
they taken him? And my little Liza, too, is lost!” 
She beat her breast. 

From where Liza crouched, she could see the 
woman still looking on the ground. Presently she 
went on a few steps and then stopped to talk to 
another policeman who had come upon the scene. 
A few minutes later around the corner appeared the 
two policemen and Tito with them. They were 
talking loudly and unintelligibly to the boy as they 
passed. Then there was silence again in the little 
alley and only the chance passer-by crossed the 
corner where the sad mix-up had occurred. 

The truth of what had happened dawned slowly 
on Liza. The lady had dropped something, had 
thought Tito and she had taken it, and now they 


184 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


must be taking her brother to jail. What would 
happen to him? Her mind was filled with frightened 
images of Tito behind the bars in some dark dungeon. 
The numb coldness that gripped her made it hard 
to think or act. She must do something. Perhaps 
what the lady lost was still there. Oh, if she could 
find it and save Tito! 

She ran to the spot and knelt on the cold, ice- 
crusted pavement, feeling over the surface with her 
little bare fingers. Nothing there! A dozen people 
had passed since the occurrence. What hope was 
there! But she bent over the edge of the curb, 
running her fingers through a crack that ran between 
the pavement and the frozen pile of snow shoveled 
into the street. A jagged point—a piece of ice—no, 
it was too hard for that. It moved, yes, she had it 
now out on her hand. Not a piece of ice at all, but 
a lovely thing that shone and sparkled as it hung 
from a tiny chain. 

A heavy hand came down on the child’s shoulder, 
so hard that Liza almost dropped the precious thing 
she had just found. 

“What, still here?” said a man’s voice. “And you 
were the one that had it all along! He gave it to 
you, eh, and ran?” 

The girl looked at him with her great dark eyes 
full of bewilderment. She could not understand all 
he said, but she understood the accusing tone and 
shook her head. “No, no, I find. Tito where?” she 
questioned. 

“You’ll find out fast enough, just this way please.” 
The man meant to be kindly, but he spoke in the 
loud voice that people use in speaking to foreigners. 
They try to gain understanding by dint of noise. 


THEY WHO FIND AMERICA 


185 

Liza went with him willingly enough, for it meant 
going to Tito. 

It was not until the next morning, however, that 
they met in the children’s court. Things looked 
dark for the two, even when Liza was produced. 

In broken words, using all her newly gained 
English, Liza tried to explain. She was puzzled 
indeed. Bravely she had left her hiding place to 
hunt the piece of evidence that would free Tito. 
Now things seemed worse than ever. She had done 
no good. She was on the verge of tears. Would no 
one understand, no one believe her? Mother was 
right, it was a strange, hard country. With the 
thought of the little mother waiting so scared at 
home, Liza gulped and the last word ended with 
a sob. She put her hands over her flaming 
face. 

She did not see the quiet-looking woman who had 
walked up the aisle and stood waiting to speak a 
word. The judge turned to her as he often had 
turned before with a sigh of relief. 

“I know this little girl. She comes to our church 
classes. I think she is telling the truth, trying to 
tell it. Let me ask her to tell me the story in her 
own language.” 

With the first words of that quiet, kindly voice 
that she had heard before, Liza looked up. She 
would have run to the woman, had she not been so 
frightened. Under the persuasive questioning of 
one who seemed to understand, Liza told the whole 
mixed-up story. 

When translated to the judge, it seemed sensible 
enough. And then, too, these children did not look 
like thieves. Their faces were bright and honest, 


186 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


though sadly pinched now with cold, hunger, and 
fear. 

“Will you be responsible for them?” the judge 
asked the lady. 

“Yes, gladly,” she replied. 

They left the court, one on either side of their new 
friend, and it seemed to Tito and Liza as if they 
were walking in a dream. 

“You have not been to us for many days, Liza. 
What has been the matter?” 

“I sew—working home,” explained Liza. “Men 
no job.” The strike again, thought the worker. 
The little girl's cheeks seemed thinner than usual. 
How many had suffered these cold winter 
days! 

Just then a man passed the three. He was walk¬ 
ing with a buoyant step, his head held high. He 
noticed Tito and stopped to say: “Heard the news? 
It has just come—this morning. It is all fixed up. 
Not all we ask for, but pretty good, and every man 
back at his job to-morrow.” 

Vaguely Tito and Liza took in more from his 
actions than from his words. 

“I go to tell the men so we will all be in our places 
to-morrow.” He threw up his cap for joy as he went 
on. Tito threw up his cap, too, with a quick burst 
of Italian feeling. 

As they walked toward the tenement in which 
they lived, the lady talked with them in their own 
tongue, and discovered their needs. She saw to it 
that they carried home with them milk for the baby 
and a loaf of bread for themselves. 

The icy hand of the little girl, laid on her warm 
one as they climbed the dark flight of stairs, made 


THEY WHO FIND AMERICA 


i 87 


her ask, “Have you no coat, Liza, that you are so 
cold? ,, 

“No,” answered Liza simply. How good the lady 
was to care! 

“When you come around to the house to-day I 
must see if there is a coat and some mittens for you 
that other American children have passed on, as 
one does in a big family to the younger ones who are 
growing up.” 

“American children?” murmured Liza wonder- 
ingly. “They bring things there?” 

“Yes, indeed. Tito must come, too,” went on the 
lady. “Bring him, Liza, to the Friendly House.” 

“I have wanted him to come,” said Liza, “for he 
can sing, and he could be with the boys who lead 
the songs.” 

“There are many things he could do with other 
boys who are all learning to be real Americans.” 

“What is this place?” asked Tito abruptly. 

With a wisdom she did not herself realize, the lady 
answered slowly in almost the boy’s own words. 
“It is a spot where people work together for each 
other. People who know English and people who 
don’t, come there. Boys and girls who have much 
in books and clothes and toys share them with those 
who have little. They do not want anyone in 
America to need things or anyone to stand alone. 
And your mother, there are many mothers who 
come there, too, with their babies, and—” 

“Oh, mother!” they had reached the top floor 
of the tenement by this time. Liza stumbled in 
without explanation or introduction of the visitor. 
“The Friendly House is for you, too, and for Tito. 
J, also, thought America was lost last night, but 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


188 

this friend has come who will show us the way. 
Now we can all find America together!” 

From “Stay-at-Home Journeys,” by Agnes Wilson Osborne. 
Used by permission of the publishers, Council of. Women for 
Home Missions and Missionary Education Movement of the 
United States and Canada. 


XVII 


FRIDAY’S FOOTPRINTS 

They were astonishingly big footprints! And our 
little Miss Robinson Crusoe didn’t like the looks of 
them one bit. For it was rather dreadful discovering 
footprints all by yourself off in the jungle forest, 
when you hadn’t started out to play Babe-in-the- 
Woods, but had somehow gotten lost on the aimless 
little trails that all looked exactly alike. 

She gulped hard and decided that whatever came 
she must not cry, but she couldn’t deny that the 
footprints got to looking bigger and bigger the 
farther she followed them. This was what came of 
disobeying mother, and being perfectly sure you 
knew the trail home when you didn’t. And now, no 
doubt, she would soon be cooked up for supper, for 
of course the farther he walked, the hungrier he 
would be getting, just ready for a nice little bit of 
white meat like herself. 

She whimpered forlornly, and hoped he was not 
going to be Too Perfectly Horrible. But the only 
thing to do was to trudge right on in the track of 
Friday’s footprints, for already in her own mind 
she was calling him “Friday,” partly because the 
day was actually Friday, but mostly because the 
famous Mr. R. Crusoe-of-the-story-book named his 
footprint friend Friday. 

Then suddenly around a bend in the winding 
189 


190 KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 

trail she saw him squatting right in the middle of 
the path, eating something that was partly wrapped 
in a big green leaf. 

Miss Robinson Crusoe wondered what you ought 
to do on meeting your man Friday. Naturally she 
wanted most of all to dash back to the place where 
mother was, but before she had time to turn around 
his quick ear had heard her footfall, and he sprang 
up with his spear poised ready to dart at the un¬ 
seen enemy. But when he saw the comical little 
white thing he stood stock-still, exactly as if he had 
been turned into a big brown statue. 

“I w-wish h-he w-was in a m-m-museum!” Miss 
Crusoe stuttered to herself, as she stood petrified 
with fear, suddenly remembering how awfully nice 
it had been to be alive all these years, the daughter 
of that most adorable mumsy, the pet of all those 
lovely missionaries. All her own fault . . . never 
would she disobey again . . . but of course there 
never would be an “again/’ this was the end. 

As for Friday himself, he could hardly believe his 
eyes. Decidedly, she must be a sort of goblin, for 
her face was white like fleecy little clouds, tinted 
pink at sunset time. And her eyes were blue like 
twin lakes in the sunshine; her hair was tawny like 
a lion’s mane, and she was decorated round and 
round, in the queerest get-up he had ever seen on 
anyone. The more he looked the surer he was that 
she was a spirit, so he lowered his spear and knelt 
down very reverently; having nothing else to offer, 
he held out his banana-leaf meal. 

“O joy!” gasped little Miss Robinson Crusoe, 
inside, “he’s going to be friends instead of having 
me for lunch,” so she nibbled very daintily at the 


FRIDAY’S FOOTPRINTS 


191 

plantain paste and took a peanut or two, while he 
grunted with surprise and pleasure. 

Then she said a sentence to him in the black 
man’s language which her mother had taught her. 
And he said a sentence to her. But her sentence 
and his sentence were not in the same language, 
for he belonged to a tribe far off from the place 
where they now were. All of which made it hard 
to be friends successfully, since they had to talk 
with their fingers. But she could see in his eyes the 
most pleasant kind of worship, as if he thought she 
might disappear into thin air any moment. So 
when she pointed to the path ahead, and beckoned 
him to come along with her, he nodded and grunted. 
And off they started, hand in hand. 

She was such a very little person, and he was 
such a very tall one (also, very, very black!) that 
when he took big long steps she had to hop-skip- 
and jump to keep up with him, until finally they 
came walking together into town. 

A certain Mrs. Missionary, on her veranda, 
looked up in surprise. “Henry,” she called to her 
husband indoors, “who ever is this giant whom 
little Robin has in tow? I don’t see how her mother 
dares let her out alone on these forest trails. See, 
I’m sure he’s a perfect stranger.” 

“He is!” Miss Robinson Crusoe sang out proudly, 
“for I discovered him all by myself from his foot¬ 
prints, when I was being a Babe-in-the-woods by 
mistake. I call him Friday, and he never even tried 
to gobble me up. Maybe Uncle Henry can palaver 
with him, for he doesn’t talk words that I know.” 

So on that memorable Friday evening, by torch¬ 
light, Mr. Missionary, who knew many languages, 


192 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


palavered a long while with the man Friday. It 
seemed that he belonged in a kraal way back in the 
forest where-the-sun-goes-down. One day the chief 
of his village died, and the witch-doctor fastened 
all the blame on him. The furious villagers tried to 
get him to take poison to prove whether he was 
innocent or guilty. But his legs were long and his 
lungs were good, so he took to his heels and ran! 
He ran all night by moonlight, with the swift 
runners of the village after him; he ducked and 
dodged and hid all day, and then ran the next 
night, and the next one too, farther and farther 
from the place-where-the-sun-goes-down nearer and 
nearer to the place-where-the-sun-comes-up. 

Then, horror of horrors, just when he felt safest, 
he saw a little white goblin in his path. He gave up 
all hope. For never had he seen any one whose 
face was not brown like mud in the rainy season or 
black like wood that is charred. Yet now it seemed 
there was a tribe of this cloud-white people—and 
from the kindness of their hearts they were doing 
their best to make him feel like one of themselves. 

He built himself a little hut of palm leaves and 
straw and mud, and at first, for a fetish of good luck, 
he hung over the door the big banana leaf he had 
had out on the forest trail when the dear little white 
goblin had caught him. 

But as he learned the new language, and watched 
the other black people in this village wearing decent 
clothes, going to school, and doing things the white 
man’s way, Friday decided to live their way too, 
so he took down the foolish charm. From that day 
on Mr. Missionary taught him, and Mrs. Missionary 
taught him. Even Miss Robinson Crusoe taught 


FRIDAY’S FOOTPRINTS 


193 


him. All those nice friendly little things that a 
Christian child is born knowing, but which a heathen 
man must hear, hour after hour, to dare believe. 

But finally old fears, old superstitions, old preju¬ 
dices died away, and Friday became a teacher him¬ 
self. Because his feet were so big and his body so 
tireless he used to travel all up and down the forest 
trails to tell the black people the astonishing news 
of the Lord Jesus. Everybody got to know him, 
and little black children would scamper into their 
kraals screaming: “News! News! Friday is here!” 

(For when he had to learn a new language, he 
decided to take a new name too, and Miss Robinson 
Crusoe simply insisted on its being “Friday.” So 
it was, of course.) 

Every minute of every day found him telling the 
new-old story of the Lord Jesus to somebody some¬ 
where, until you could have discovered the foot¬ 
prints for miles and miles in all directions. 

Then one rainy season Friday came down with 
chills and fever, far from home; and the frightened 
black people in that kraal did not know what to do 
for him. They called their witch doctor, who 
obligingly worked himself up into a fury as he 
danced around Friday, trying to “smell out” who 
had made him sick. 

But the few new Christians knew this old way was 
foolishness, so they started to carry him back through 
the forest to his home. In every kraal through 
which they went black families watched him passing 
by, and shaking their dear black heads, they said 
mournfully, “He is sick with too bad a sickness.” 

Friday died back in the new village where he had 
been so happy and little Miss Robinson Crusoe 


194 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


cried as if her poor little heart would break. “I 
thought my Friday would go on making footprints 
forever and ever,” she sobbed. 

“I know, dear,” her mother sighed. 

And yet this is really not a sad story at all, for 
something very wonderful happened when the 
black people back in the forest heard that Friday 
had gone home to Jesus. They came quietly to 
town, and one of them said, “Friday told me all 
that ever I heard of the Lord Jesus. Now that he 
lives in the town of God, I will give two days each 
new moon to walk in Friday’s footsteps.” 

A very, very old woman said happily: “I am 
shown a new thing. I do not know how much, but 
at least I can carry to my neighbors the good news 
that Friday brought to me.” 

“And I will give from the time-when-the-sun-is- 
in-the-middle-of-the-sky to the time-when-the-sun- 
goes-down to carrying on Friday’s work every day,” 
a young chief said. Others promised an hour a day, 
or one day a week, or one week in every month— 
until there were dozens of “Fridays” to go through 
the black forest like lights in a dark place. 

Even to-day, whenever our grown-up Miss Rob¬ 
inson Crusoe goes walking on the jungle trails, and 
meets any Christian far from home, she hardly needs 
to ask, “What brings you so far from your own kraal, 
friend?” for the answer almost always is, “O, this is 
my day for carrying on Friday’s work, teacher.” 

But no one has ever been known to fear these 
new footprints of Friday, for it is just as if the Lord 
Jesus had made them himself right into the hearts 
and the homes of a people hungry for God. 

Friday's Footprints , Margaret T. Applegarth, pages 1-9, The Jud- 
son Press, Philadelphia, Pa. Used by permission of the publisher. 



XVIII 


PRIVATE TOM MAKES A DISCOVERY 

Private Thomas Cooper was coming home from 
the Great War the long way round. For toward the 
last his company had been stationed in Siberia and 
they were all being sent back from there by way 
of China. 

Private Tom was something of a hero, although 
you would never know it from anything he said; 
but inside his khaki greatcoat was a medal that 
had been pinned on him for bravery, and his 
shattered arm was still in a sling. So by special 
permission, on the plea of ill health, they let him 
stop off to rest in a certain Chinese town where for 
a special reason Private Tom was delighted to be 
dropped. For another hero lived in that town—a 
football hero gone to seed. 

“Just wait till I wake him up though, the old 
stick-in-the-mud!” grinned Private Tom as he ate 
breakfast that morning; after which he sallied down 
the Chinese street holding his nose with his one good 
hand so as not to smell the horrible odors that rose 
from the open sewers. 

“Imagine choosing a pigsty like this to live in 
out of all the places on earth/’ sniffed Private Tom 
in utter disgust, as he strode along through the un¬ 
speakable mud of the unspeakable street, which 
had a charming name, had he only known it—“The 
Street of Ten Thousand Moonbeams.” But Private 
Tom only wished for his Aunt Arabella’s smelling 
195 


196 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


salts, and was glad when he saw the hospital for 
which he was bound. 

A neat little Blue Cotton Nurse bobbed politely 
before him as she let him in the door when he asked 
her for his old college chum. 

“I please you to honorably sit,” she suggested 
politely, bowing again. 

So he honorably sat, but discovered he was not 
sitting alone. The maimed and the halt and the 
blind all touched elbows with him in that waiting 
room, and although he was a hero he found himself 
edging away and squeezing himself into as small a 
space as possible. 

Because—0 well, just because! Somehow they 
did not look inviting, those patients, and he hoped 
the football hero would hurry out to greet him. 

He did too! 

Why, Tom, old pal! Who ever expected to have 
you drop down here! Where’d you come from any¬ 
how?” 

“War!” said Private Tom, gripping the hand of 
the ex-football hero. “Don’t suppose you know 
there’s been a war going on for years, though, you 
old stick-in-the-mud! Say, Dick, what ever made 
you choose this hole to live in? Never saw such a 
filthy spot or smelled such smells. Come on out in 
the country somewhere and let’s have a good old 
pow-wow.” 

“Sorry, Tom, but you see my patients waiting, 
and there’ll be more in a minute. This is our morn¬ 
ing for men; most of them work and must get back 
to their jobs soon. We’ll have to wait until office 
hours are over at noon. Let me see, what shall I do 
with you meanwhile?” 


PRIVATE TOM MAKES A DISCOVERY 197 

“Anything, old man, except keep me cooped in 
here with the lame and the halt and the blind,” 
shuddered Private Tom. “You make me wild,” he 
blazed; “aren’t you a crackerjack doctor? Then 
why do you stick yourself off among a lot of repulsive 
Chinks like these?” 

“Chinks?” snapped the doctor; “don’t you dare 
call them Chinks! Why, good gracious, Tom, 
they’re the salt of the earth! I’ve got a fellow in my 
office this minute who dug trenches behind the lines 
in France for two years, and his family—O well, 
if you’re so blind; I tell you what I’ll do—I’ll turn 
you loose in the hospital in charge of Chow Wan. 
She speaks a delicious brand of English, and you 
can spend a ripping morning. Then we’ll lunch 
together. I’ll send her in at once. So long!” and he 
hurried away. 

Private Tom sniffed in disgust. Then the Blue 
Cotton Nurse padded in softly, and beamed at him. 

“Honorable doctor say you please I should show 
you the all things. Honorably sit.” 

“See here,” said Private Tom, shaking a finger at 
her, “I don’t please to sit! Show me something 
interesting—anything but this roomful of—of—of.” 

The Blue Cotton Nurse squinted up at him side- 
wise. “0, but I pleases you to honorably sit just a 
miserable moment—for there are nothings of more 
interesting than this what-you-call roomful.” 

So Private Tom unwillingly sat down on the edge 
of the bench, with the Blue Cotton Nurse beside 
him. 

“They is all lovely cases,” she began, waving her 
hand to include everybody present. “They is to be 
like magic in this town. Now that ragged man by 


198 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


the door; he are chair coolie for big mandarin. 
Mandarin are got no use for Christian church; no, 
no! But presently chair coolie get sick. He try 
quack doctor; no good at all; just more pain, more 
trouble. So Mandarin he do send coolie here and 
God pleases for Christian pills should make him 
healthy. Mandarin smile, and presently are sick 
himself and now sends coolie for pills. So God will 
to cure him, then he maybe go walk into church 
some day—yes?” 

Private Tom stared at the chair coolie. Not such 
an impossible specimen after all, tattered and tired, 
of course, but what a good face! 

“Is he a Christian—the coolie, I mean?” 

“Half-way,” nodded the Blue Cotton Nurse, “he 
do get some doubts yet about evil spirits and idols. 
But his small girls is in our school now, and when 
they comes home singing Jesus songs and telling 
Jesus stories, can he be heathen for always?” 

Private Tom thought not. 

“Now as for man next by the coolie, he are most 
dreadful fiend.” 

“Really?” asked Private Tom. “He just looks 
tame and stupid to me.” 

“O, he are; that are just the matter,” exclaimed 
the little nurse, “for he are most dreadful opium 
fiend; he do sell his baby girl last year for trifling 
cash to buy opium. He do never fill the family 
rice-bowl, so alas! they die—because he is no work. 
Now he got no’inner person left for cooking—no 
son, no roof tree—all sold. He got only lonesome 
inside him, so now Honorable Doctor took a hand 
over him.” 

Private Tom looked kindly at the dull, heavy 


PRIVATE TOM MAKES A DISCOVERY 199 

eyes and the sad yellow face. “But can he be 
helped,” he asked. 

“O, God are wonderful!” breathed the little nurse. 
“God do give him strength for not smoke opium 
since nine weeks. God and Honorable Doctor, can 
they not make wonders? The man next by, he do 
get infected eye. Last month it is so big as your 
fist, all full poison matter; ugh! Where are that 
big sore now. Gone! Honorable Doctor have cut 
away.” 

And so she went on around the roomful, until 
Private Tom knew about each of them; the par¬ 
ticular sickness, the likely cure, the home life, the 
way they regarded Christianity, until somehow they 
no longer seemed like just repulsive people to him. 

“You love them, don’t you?” he asked the Blue 
Cotton Nurse, as they were shutting the door, 
about to leave the room. 

“But yes!” she said, poking her head inside for a 
last look. “I please you to remember I were 
miserable the same way, only worse! Much worser— 
of so full of unpleasantness. Then God do make 
me over specially for loving the sick.” 

Private Tom choked. Good gracious! What a 
blind fool he had been! He stumbled down the hall¬ 
way after her into a cheerful, sunny room. 

“Childrens!” beamed the little nurse, pointing 
proudly to the rows of tiny cots, “there are nothings 
nicer than little Chinese childrens, say our Honor¬ 
able Doctor. And for every childrens here, there are 
a mother, and in every mother there are love that 
Christian hospital do sit in her town for curing her 
childrens.” 

Next there was the women’s ward, then the men’s 


200 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


ward, then the convalescent ward—all full of 
patients, so many that Private Tom said curiously, 
“Where’s the other doctor?” 

“Are you make joke on me?” asked the little 
nurse. “For there are no more doctor but the one.” 

Private Tom looked at the neatly scrubbed floors, 
the spotless operating room, the spick and span 
halls, and the neat little Chinese nurses and he said: 
“It’s wonderful—wonderful! Let me go back in 
the waiting room, though; I know there are a hun¬ 
dred things you ought to be doing.” 

The Blue Cotton Nurse said demurely, “O, but 
that do be a most smelly place for honorable Ameri¬ 
can nose!” 

“I can stand it,” Private Tom said bluntly, 
wedging himself in between a blind boy and a rough 
old beggar. An entirely new crowd were in the 
waiting room now, each with some terrible ailment, 
some strange history behind him, some unknown 
future before him waiting—waiting for the touch of 
the Foreign Doctor to cure and to help. 

Private Tom looked at the blind boy and thought: 
“We were almost twins, little fellow, you and I, but 
your doctor opened my eyes in one treatment. I 
hope he’ll do as well for you. Talk about heroes— 
this is a factory where they make them, and I called 
him a stick-in-the-mud! Well, now I see!” 

So after luncheon Private Tom said enthusi¬ 
astically: “I tell you what, Dick, when I get home 
I’m going to boost foreign missions until something 
happens. I’m going to tell the fellows it’s the place 
for real live men to come if they want to be heroes!” 

“0, not that!” interrupted the doctor, “there’s 
no hero job here.” 


PRIVATE TOM MAKES A DISCOVERY 201 


Private Tom took his hand. “Dick,” he said, “if 
I had all the decorations of the European war I’d 
pin them all on your coat lapel, and kiss you on 
both cheeks too, as Foch does; for you’re a soldier, 
man; a real live soldier! And this hospital is a real 
live battle field; every day you have to fight this 
whole town single-handed, and how you do win out, 
Dick! How you do win out! Curing the sick, clean¬ 
ing things up, training your own nurses, doing ten 
men’s work, and keeping bright—and alone! I 
don’t see how you stand it!” 

Dick said quietly: “Why, Tom, if I did it alone, 
I couldn’t stand it. But I’ve got a wonderful Ally; 
day by day he walks through the wards of this little 
hospital, he stands beside every cot, he strengthens 
every nurse, he does the very things I couldn’t do, 
alone.” 

Private Tom said earnestly: “Dick, even if I 
never come back as a doctor, as I’d like to do, 
remember that I’m going to boost. We’ve been far 
too quiet about foreign missions back in America, 
too quiet and too lazy and too ready to leave it to 
the other fellow. But you can count on me from 
now on, old pal.” 

And down in his heart, Private Tom wonders 
whether you wouldn’t like to be a “pal” too? Some¬ 
one whose eyes have been opened so that you can 
always be counted on—to boost, and to give, and 
to pray? 

Friday's Footprints , Margaret T. Applegarth, pages 193-202. 
The Judson Press, Philadelphia. Used by permission of the 
publishers, The Judson Press. 


XIX 


UP NORTH 

“That will do, Lincoln. You may sit down,” said 
the teacher. 

Lincoln was conscious as he finished reading, that 
a subdued titter ran around the room. That was 
the way these strange Northern boys and girls had 
laughed every time he opened his mouth. Now they 
laughed softly and secretly, since the teacher had 
sternly checked them. He knew they were making 
fun of him because of his Southern accent, and even 
the eight or ten other Negro boys and girls in the 
room joined them. He bit his lips to keep the tears 
back. What was the good of his beautiful, beautiful 
shining desk all by himself, of the lovely warmth 
which came from no hot iron stove, but yet seemed 
to fill the whole room; of the beautiful pictures on 
the wall; of the real blackboard, if there was no 
friendly face except that of the teacher? 

He looked shyly up at the teacher. She was a 
white woman, the first white teacher he had ever 
had; and this was a school for white boys as well as 
black. There were no schools like that in the South. 

Many of the boys, too, were different from any 
white boys Lincoln had ever seen before. Donald 
Bliss, a colored boy, had whispered to him at recess 
that the fathers of Dominico and Tony were Italians, 
that Stephane’s father was a Greek, and that big 
John was the son of a Bohemian. 

The teacher was speaking again. “Will Lincoln 
202 


UP NORTH 


203 

Hall please remain for a few minutes after 
school?” 

In the quiet room Lincoln looked up timidly into 
the face of his teacher. 

“Lincoln,” began the teacher, “I think this grade 
is a little too hard for you yet.” 

“But I was in the fifth grade at home, ma’am,” 
answered Lincoln, the tears beginning to come into 
his big black eyes. Was he to be banished from 
this beautiful room after all? 

“Still, your school never lasted so long as our 
school does, Lincoln, and you had other handicaps, 
too. Well,” she concluded slowly, “I’ll try you for 
a few days. A boy with your name, you know, ought 
to be able to accomplish anything. You remember 
Lincoln had to work very hard for his education 
when he was a boy.” 

“But-but he was a white boy,” answered Lincoln 
shyly. 

“Black boys have done as much,” she replied. 

Had they, indeed! Lincoln walked proudly to the 
door. He would just show teacher and all of them 
that he could stick in that class! 

Out on the playground the boys of the fifth grade 
were building a huge snow fort, which they had 
topped with a flag. Black boys and white were 
working together. Would they let him play with 
them? Big John was just hoisting up a huge block 
of snow to the top of the fort. “Here, Coon,” he 
called over his shoulder to Lincoln, “you can make 
the ammunition!” 

In spite of the unpleasant name, Lincoln smiled 
as he walked over to the fort and began making 
snowballs with his bare hands. 


204 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


“I’m going to be captain of the fort/’ exclaimed 
Dominico, dancing up and down. 

“No, me,” answered big John roughly. “I guess 
I built it!” 

“But I made de plans and helped,” answered 
Dominico hotly. 

“Well, you ain’t goin’ to be captain,” replied John. 

“All right, then see what will happen to yer old 
fort,” and reaching behind Lincoln, Dominico gave 
a push which sent John’s newly balanced tower and 
Lincoln together tumbling to the ground. 

John turned upon him in a rage. “You knock 
down my fort!” he exclaimed, doubling up his 
fists. 

“Naw, he did it,” laughed Dominico, pointing to 
Lincoln, rising from the snow. 

“Let’s wash his face!” exclaimed Tony. 

“I’ll show him!” yelled John. 

But Lincoln was frightened. He had never been 
in a snow fight before, and he flung out wildly with 
his arms, striking as hard as he could, for he was 
sure he was going to be smothered. 

Good-natured Donald Bliss, standing behind him, 
at this moment heaved a soft block of snow from 
the fort upon the necks of the boys who were doing 
the washing. 

“Aw, quit!” exclaimed John, fishing down his 
back. 

“Let’s run the coons off!” called a white boy. 

The cry was taken up. “Let’s have a snow 
fight.” 

In a second the colored boys found themselves 
alone, while the white boys were pelting them with 
snowballs. 


UP NORTH 


205 

And then the battle began in earnest. The Negro 
boys were far outnumbered. They fought pluckily, 
but inch by inch they were driven out of the play¬ 
ground and along the street. A well-aimed ball 
from Donald Bliss knocked John’s cap off. Angrily 
the big boy picked up a hunk of ice and threw it 
with all his might at Donald. He ducked, but it 
struck Lincoln full on the cheek bone, and, stumbling 
sideways, he fell, the blood trickling from a wide 
gash in his cheek. 

“Aw, cut it out!” exclaimed Dominico, running 
toward Lincoln. “He didn’t knock yer fort down 
anyway. I did,” and the Italian boy faced the 
other white boys defiantly. 

“I should think,” said a clear voice, “that since 
both sides fight so pluckily, you could together win 
any sort of battle.” 

“Miss Oliver!” gasped Donald Bliss. 

“And now,” continued Miss Oliver, “I think the 
first thing is to get this cut dressed.” 

The boys hung their heads in silence. 

“Will you come with me?” smiled the lady as she 
bent over Lincoln. 

The boy looked up in her face with round eyes. 

“Are—are you a police lady, missis?” he ques¬ 
tioned. 

The woman shook her head and smiled at him. 
“I am just a friend of boys,” she answered, as she 
helped him to his feet. 

In a few minutes Lincoln found himself in a big, 
warm building. He looked about him with wide 
eyes. In a long, sunny room numbers of little 
Negro boys and girls were playing a merry kinder¬ 
garten game. In another room tables were being 


206 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


laid with food for them. In a third room some big 
colored boys were laughing over a game of dominoes. 
From somewhere upstairs came the sound of music 
on a piano. “Please, ma’am,” asked Lincoln, “where 
is this?” 

“It is just a big, friendly church home kept by 
the Mission Board for all the colored people of this 
neighborhood,” answered the lady. 

“I think it's heaven!” answered Lincoln with a 
sigh of comfort. 

In a neat little office, while the lady dressed his 
cut, Lincoln poured out the whole story; how his 
father had been sick with a bad cough this winter 
and had to stay home from work many days; how 
they lived on the top floor of a rickety old building 
so close to the elevated railroad that the cars seemed 
to thunder through their rooms night and day; 
how sister Caroline wanted to go back home down 
South where the morning glories grew in the sum¬ 
mer over their little cottage and the hollyhocks and 
sunflowers stood in the garden; and little lame 
Georgie was afraid of the dashing automobiles and 
cars, and cried all the time with the cold; how 
Mammy knew no families to wash for in this strange 
city; and, last of all, about the old blue tin box 
and the two silver dollars in it. 

“But ef I has to spend the money fo’ grub, then 
I can’t go to college ever,” he concluded sadly. 

“O, I guess you won’t have to do that,” com¬ 
forted the lady. “I think we can help you out. 
Just come over to this next office with me. Mrs. 
Trowbridge,” she asked of the lady at the desk, 
“have you anyone who wants washing done?” 

Mrs. Trowbridge glanced down her page. 


UP NORTH 


207 

“Certainly,” she replied, “here are several families 
on my list.” 

“Anything for a boy?” continued Miss Oliver. 

Mrs. Trowbridge considered. And then she 
nodded. “Yes,” she answered. “Old Mrs. Hedges 
wants a boy to run errands every Saturday after¬ 
noon. She will pay fifty cents.” 

“How will that do, Lincoln?” questioned Miss 
Oliver. 

Lincoln's eyes sparkled. “Maybe some time,” he 
replied, “I put another dollar in that box!” 

“Shouldn’t wonder,” smiled Miss Oliver. “And 
now, Lincoln, tell your mother I will call on her to¬ 
morrow morning about the washing, and I think I 
know the right doctor for your father to see.” 

“Please, ma’am,” said Lincoln, twisting his hat in 
his hands, “you’ve been so powerful good, could 
Georgie come here sometimes and listen to the 
music? He surely kin play on the ol’ fiddle.” 

“Certainly he may come, and sister too. Perhaps 
she would like to join some of our classes for young 
girls.” 

Still Lincoln lingered. “Miss Oliver,” he stam¬ 
mered, “did—did you say you belong to a Mission 
Board?” 

Miss Oliver nodded, smiling. 

“There was a Mission Board friend down South, 
too. I—I got two frien’s now,” said Lincoln shyly. 

“I hope you will have many more,” answered 
Miss Oliver, as she opened the door for him. 

But Lincoln stood still in astonishment. There, 
in a silent line, were the boys of his school, colored 
and white together. What had happened to them? 
One of Donald Bliss’ eyes was swollen shut. Tony 


208 


KNIGHTS OF SERVICE 


had lost his hat. Dominico’s lip was bleeding, but 
big Bohemian John carried in triumph a small, torn 
American flag. What did it all mean? 

“Why, boys!” exclaimed Miss Oliver, looking at 
them over Lincoln’s head, “have you been fighting 
ever since I left you?” 

“Yeh-er,” replied big John, a grin spreading over 
his scratched face. “Dose bad boys from de Green 
Street school dey come to take de flag from our 
fort. We fight—we fight togedder , an’ we keep de 


flag! 


“Yeh-er, we kept it!” broke in Donald. 

“And now we make a parade wit de flag,” declared 
John. “An’—an’ we stop here for Lin.” 

“Come on, Lin!” called Dominico, grabbing 
Lincoln by the arm. “We mak-a da friends, me an’ 
you!” and with a yell the boys were off, the flag 
waving proudly in the lead. 

Prom The Magic Book , by Anita B. Ferris. Used by permission 
of the publishers, Council of Women for Home Missions and the 
Missionary Education Movement of the United States and 
Canada. 



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